Imprisoned
by ABC-BTR
Summary: Forced to stay with a bunch of other criminals does not sound fun. Not at all. But then again, if there is a cute one, it must seem better, right? Follow Carlos as he tries to work out the mysterious Logan, all the while surviving the horrors that the fac
1. You Gotta Love Life

**Full Summary: **Forced to stay with a bunch of other criminals does not sound fun. Not at all. But then again, if there is a cute one, it must seem better, right? Carlos has to stay there for a year, mixing with the other inhabitants. But one catches his eye. The mysterious, silent and elusive Logan, the boy no-one talks too. Can Carlos work the boy out, all the while living through the horror the facility provides?

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter One; You Gotta Love Life.**

* * *

I stop dead in my tracks, suitcase clutched in hand, staring down at my mother. I can see it in her eyes. Guilt, sadness, most of all, regret. Regret that maybe this was the wrong choice? Regret that maybe, just maybe, if she had stood up for herself, I wouldn't be in this mess? Or maybe it's regret that her eldest son didn't turn out so perfect. My eyes cast downwards, noticing my little brother, Rico, clinging onto her leg, tiny hands wrapped around it for protection. He has no idea what's going on. Never has, really. That's what I admire and envy from him. He's always had the advantage of being oblivious to it all, whereas me, the eldest, had to listen to it non-stop.

"Bye Carlos," Mom whispers, silent tears streaming her face.

For a slight moment, I feel guilty myself. I'm leaving her, but she know it's not by choice. Either go to that place or pay a fine. We aren't exactly rich, so naturally, paying something we couldn't afford was out of the question.

"Bye Mom," I reply, my voice more icy than I expected. I crouch down, letting my eyes be level with Rico's. "Bye buddy."

He nods his head, rather than responding, which I guess is a good thing. Despite being oblivious, Rico has always been dramatic, and right now, it's something neither me nor mom really needs. I sigh, straightening myself out, noticing him walking the path, heading towards us.

"Are you ready, Mr. Garcia?" he says, voice polite but strict.

"Yeah," I nod, turning on my heel from my family, facing my escort. Short, brown hair and definitely muscular. I could try to escape, maybe even outrun the idiot. But something tells me that not only will he catch up, but he'll definitely take me down, clearly being more physically stronger than I am. I see his hand drop down, ready to take my suitcase from my hand. "I can carry it myself, thanks."

He restricts at my venom, and it takes everything to bite back my growing smirk. Strong and fast, but clearly intimidated. Something tells me he's dealt with a lot of problem teenagers, and although he should learn to not be afraid, I guarantee every single has reacted different. I can tell that by the faint scar on his forehead, stretching just over his right eye.

"You're not allowed to carry your own luggage, Mr. Garcia," the man responds, voice staying firm. "It's part of my job to take it from you."

"So you can check it for dangerous weapons, right?" I raise my eyebrows, turning slightly to see my mom and Rico, still watching.

"Not necessarily," he says calmly. "It's just protocol, that's all."

Seeing the man eye me very carefully, I decide I'm too tired to even fight back. I drop my luggage to the floor, listening to the sound of the material meet the concrete as I turn once more to my family, the last I'll see them for a year.

"I'll be back, don't worry, just a year," I say confidently, even though it hurts to be away for even that long. "Just try and be safe."

I direct those words at mother, which she nods, grasping my hidden meaning. The safe part isn't for her directly, but rather an instruction. To keep Rico safe. I turn once again, noticing the short man had already scooped up my luggage, staring at me with his piercing blue eyes. I would say I'm intimidated, but I'm far from it. It's more respect than anything. Something in his eyes tells me that he's faced many kids, prying them away from distraught parents, sending them to a place that helps them. It doesn't look fun, his eyes tell me that, seeing as the pity swamps them.

He gives me a curt nod, trying to walk down the path. I follow slowly, turning every so often to stare at my family. I've always felt more of the adult, rather than the child. At 16 and I already feel older than I am. Kids my age party and chill with friends, whilst I work two shifts after school, desperate to help my family stay afloat. He was supposed to help, but still I found myself tired and drained, be the sole provider of the family.

The man, who I still don't know by name, opens the trunk of the black car, tossing my luggage in before walking around, climbing in the passengers seat. The only thought that satisfies me is that my family get money for me trying to make ammends for my wrong-doing. That's all I need. I pull the door open and climb in, sliding onto the black leather seat, closing the door, losing the sight of my family forever.

* * *

The hum of the car keeps me calm during the journey. The driver, by his own choice or by my escort's, has put up the partition that divides the front and the back. I don't whether it's soundproof or not, but either way, it's deadly quiet up front. That doesn't help my nerves one bit. Me, left in silence, with my thoughts and my thumbs, playing together on my lap. It could have turned out different. I could have used the slightest self-control, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be sat here in a car, heading to my new home of a year.

I haven't heard much about Springwood Hall, only that it's a converted manor, changed into something of a correction facility. Best in the state, they say. But what they really mean, is that it takes the toughest and most awkward cases, seeing as the hall is private and relatively small, but it's methods of correction are well-known, seeing as I've heard it down the grapevine. Otherwords, I'm being placed their because they simply believe I need to be around a small group of people, rather than a large and over-crowded detention hall, where the possibility of me reacting is a lot larger.

I admit, I have anger problems. But when it comes down to it, it requires a lot to make me explode. A lot. A large and over-crowded hall of delinquents isn't going to change a thing, unless someone would to try and push my buttons.

"You okay back there? You're awfully quiet."

It's the voice of the driver, no doubt, seeing as it doesn't sound like my escort.

"I'm fine," I hiss, annoyed by his apparent stupidity. "Although I could say the same about you up there. Lost, are we?"

"Far from it, kid." he replies, arrogance laced in his voice.

Kid. Something I never got to be, and yet, they refer me as one. I wonder if the 'kids' I'll be living with feel the same, because no doubt, they're all crazy and are criminals.

"We're here, Mr. Garcia," my escort's voice booms, loud and clear. "Springwood Hall."

"I think I could tell by the words that the idiot driver babbled," I retort. "But of course, feel free to remind me every couple of seconds."

I hear his sigh very lightly, when the scratching sound of the partition rolling down disturbs it. I can see them both, sat there in their black suits, looking rather official. When he turns around, I notice those piercing blue eyes, pity still clear.

"Must you be so rude, Mr. Garcia," he says softly. "There's no need for it."

"Sure," I scoff. "Because sending me to a nut house is the perfect solution and I wouldn't be pissed about it at all."

He sighs again, turning around as the car makes it full stop. Through the window, I can see the grass and trees in the distance, making the area look more and more like it's deserted in the middle of the woods. That's the beauty of Springwood Hall, no-one has a damn clue where it is, besides the employees. I watch as my escort climbs up and out the door, a clipboard clutched in his hand. I go to open my door, feeling capable of doing things by myself, when the driver snaps his head around.

"You stay." he hisses.

"And you call me rude?" I smirk, leaning back and crossing my arms.

"I don't like kids like you," he glares, eyes trained on my body. "You think you're all big and mighty, just because you've now got a criminal record. Somebody needs to knock you down to size."

"That's funny," I raise an eyebrow, cocky as ever. "Because I never said anything about liking you, seeing as all you're good for is sitting behind a wheel and turning it. Doesn't take a genius, and yet, you still manage."

I can see the red flush his face, clearly getting annoyed by my attitude. It's fine, I think to myself, you won't have to see him ever again after this. Maybe in a year, but by that time comes, I would care even less than I do now.

"You watch yourself in there, kid, Springwood is notorious for it's methods. Your mouth won't go unpunished."

"Bite me." I spit back, leaning just a little bit forward, closing the gap.

He looks shocked at my apparent temper, possible rumours being spread about me being true. He takes that to his mind, clearly, as he snarls before turning back, in perfect sync with my door being open.

"They're ready for you," the escort says, letting the sunlight pour into the back of the dark car. I nod, tired of the constant need to fight back against these people. It's definitely a need, not a choice. They treat me in a certain way, I'm going to respond in the same way. Be nice, I speak nice. Be a bitch, I attack. Simple. I step out, my trainers grounding against the pebbles that litter the driveway. I spin on my heel, noticing the large and luxurious building looming into the sky, piercing the clouds so high above. Trees surround it on all 3 sides, the only open area being the driveway and it's pretty garden of colourful flowers, a large water fountain in the middle. "There are exactly 19 residents, you making the 20th."

"That's nice of them," I reply bitterly, watching the stubby man pull my suitcase from the trunk, placing on the ground for a second. "Did they save it especially for me?"

I can't see him, but I'm almost positive that he rolls his eyes as he picks up my suitcase once again. It's a good thing they tell me I can only bring one, otherwise, I think I'd feel slightly guilty for the man.

"Mr. Garcia, I must warn you, Springwood doesn't take to kindly to rude inhabitants," he says sincerly, walking up to me and pass me without a second thought. "So I'd be careful, if I was you."

I make a note of his tone, realising that he sounds more serious than before. But really, as I follow the man up the path and ignore the eyes burning into the back of me from the spiteful driver, I'd expected him to be a bit more forceful. Some of the most worse teenagers from California end up at Springwood, and by that neat scar, I can tell he must deal with some fighters. Luckily, today, I'll just use my words. They can be just as cutting as my fists.

* * *

The door opens, a petite redhead with glasses standing in the entrance, waiting. I watch her as a sickly smile spreads across her abnormally pale face, corners of the smile curling up under her eyes. My escort places my suitcase on the floor, nodding politely at the lady, turning to leave. But before he does that, his hand lands on my shoulder, lingering for a while. I take it as a sign of comfort, which worries me slightly more as I continue my glare at the woman.

"I'm Dr. Philips," she says, extending her hand towards me. For a moment, I stare at it, debating what to do, until finally, she pulls it back. "No manners, that's fine, Springwood can change that for you," her smile falters for a second, only reappearing even more sickly. "As I was saying, I'm Dr. Philips and head of the Springwood Hall, I'm in charge of everything that goes on around here, as well as montoring each individual of our lovely family."

Family. They say you can't choose your family, and right now, the words sickens me as I realise it's right. These other 19 crazy people are going to be my family for a year, whether I like it or not and I know I definitely don't like it.

"I am the one who does therapy and counselling, which is compulsory, unless I know of your reasons for not attending. Everyone has a different schedule, and whilst all of you are under 18, small classes do also happen," Dr. Philips nods curtly at the woman behind the white desk, who quickly hands out a pink piece of paper to me. I take it, slightly reluctantly, only giving in when I notice the redhead's evil glare. "That is your personal schedule. The pink squares that are marked with a blue circle are your therapy sessions with me, whilst the gold circles are your free time."

"That I am shocked," I breath, staring at the paper and thankfully finding out I have gold circles in nearly every other square. "Where do I go for free time?"

"Your quarters, the rec room, the canteen area or the reading room," she replies quickly. "As I was saying, and finally, the red circles are your classes. Many of which you square with a few, selective others."

I nod, choosing not to speak. There's no point, and seeing the woman's wicked control over things, I can tell she'd beat me in a verbal match hands down.

"If you'd like to follow me, I'll show you to your quarters." Dr. Philips smiles, heading down the long, narrow hall.

It takes a while for it to sink in, but after walking for a few minutes, it's more than clear that the building is full of narrow hallways, each one looking exactly the same as the other. Same white ceiling, same white walls and same bleached wooden floor. Everything so white, I feel more out of place then ever. It's this and when I looked up at Dr. Philips' white lab coat, do I realise that it's clearly been done to soothe potential problematic patients.

Finally, we reach a flight of stairs in a clearing, as we walk up, I can hear the faint noise of talking and even some light screaming. Clearly normal, as Dr. Philips chooses to ignore it as she takes me down yet another narrow hallway.

"This is the boy's hall and this.." she says as she stops outside a door marked in bold, black letters saying 2J. "This is your quarters, Mr. Garcia."

The door swings open, revealing, to my surprise, a large room that is also cleaned down in whiteness.

"More white?" I frown, stepping into the room with my suitcase in hand.

"Yes, Mr. Garcia, more white," Dr. Philips glares. "It's neutral, to calm anyone who isn't."

I can't help but feel that those words are clearly directed at me. There's no doubt about that, seeing as I'm the one with the huge anger problem that doesn't want to disappear. I feel her glaring as I throw my suitcase on the bed, watching the springs bounce it slightly until it comes to a complete stop. I smirk, noticing the glaring hasn't ceased.

"I think I'm more than settled," I say sarcastically, turning around to face. "Thank you, Dr. Philips."

"The weekends are when free time is all day, unless you have a therapy meeting," Dr. Philips replies emotionless, stepping out the door. "Don't miss one, Mr. Garcia, otherwise the price to pay is dearly."

She stalks away, leaving my door open. I can't help but feel her words have a hidden, more omnious meaning. The woman definitely intimidates me more than the escort or driver, simply because unlike them, she's in her terrority and I'm nothing more than an intruder. And like terrorities and intruders, I know I'd be cleaned out within seconds if I place my footing wrong. Either way, nothing will change. I'll pull through the year, show my remorse and go home before I know it.

I sigh, turning to the window, noticing the metal bars that slide across it. I frown, crossing the room and trying to pull the window open with my hand. It doesn't move.

"What the fuck.." I breath, pulling at it again to find it still not opening. The bars I get, clearly it's to stop the mad ones jumping. But for god sake, a year without being able to open a window? I turn, trying to work out my quarters. The bathroom doors sit in the corner, and whilst it opens, it only reveals a simple bathroom, barely bigger than a closet. The only furniture my room seems to adorn is the metal bed, decorated with white linen and a bedside table with a draw, a white bottle lamp sitting on top.

Nothing elaborate, in fact, the bare minimum.

I flop down onto my bed, carelessly knocking the suitcase onto the floor and hearing the bang, it echoing across the room. I lay there, looking up at the ceiling, noticing there isn't even a light up at all. A simple ceiling, painted white.

"This place gets more and more fucked up." I say to myself, pulling my arms up so my head has something to lean on.

"Hi.."

I hear the small, almost timid voice and instantly shoot up, staring at the person in my doorway. He's well-built, easily taller than me with tanned skin, deep blue eyes and perfect, way too perfect, hair that sweeps across his forehead.

"Hi.." I reply, leaning back and propping myself onto my elbows. "Can I help you?"

"You're new, right?" he responds, avoiding my question. The way he shuffles from one foot to the other tells me he's a crazy. "I mean, you are new, aren't you?"

"I think that much is obvious.." I raise my eyebrows, noticing how awkward my words make him in a flash. "Are you okay?"

His eyes widen, the blue only becoming brighter, but this time, it looks more like fear. I can see his whole body go stiff, his fingers mindlessly gripping onto the bottom of his shirt, tugging it despite the fact that it won't stretch no more.

"Dude, you okay?" I repeat, standing to my feet. The minute I do, I can see his body relaxing, hands curling away from the shirt. "Yeah, I'm new here. Carlos."

I feel like I should put my hand out to shake his, but something tells me he won't respond or he might freak out once more. Then again, it just be me. Everything here seems out of the ordinary, so what difference will a crazy kid make?

"James." he responds, which makes me smile. I don't know why, but he seems so childlike and that only reminds me of Rico.

Then, almost as if repeating my actions, he grins wildly. "Carlos, you have to come and check out the rec room. It's amazing!"

I look at him, puzzled. Seriously, I'm a genius. A crazy kid, how great. He jumps on the spot, grinning, before dashing off down the hall. I don't move for a moment, debating on whether he's a harmless crazy kid, or some psychopathic murder whose luring me to my death. I decide that he must be harmless, otherwise I'm sure Dr. Philips would have had him in a straight jacket for the entire duration of his stay.

"Carlos, come on!"

I sigh, walking towards the door. I guess this was going to be a long year. A long fucking year indeed.

* * *

**I know, I'm such a bad person, leaving Struck By Thunder unattended and not updated for ages when I came off hiatus and blah. I'm sorry, but to make up for it, I have this? My updating schedule is completely doomed. But hey, you have to love me, right? Please say you do. You guys are my life.**

**This story will be fun. All criminals, nutty and an ominous correction facility. Perfect, if you ask me. Need to bring more angst and such.**


	2. First Impressions Matter

**Okay, so my big hugs this time go out to **_BigTimeOzzy_, _KEALY KAMES_, _FlowersSetAlight_, _brittney_, _krepeh_, _xxhalestormxx_, _Cookie Monster Giggles_, _anon_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_ **and an awesome friend of mine,** _Aeroja._

Loads of alerts and favourites! Blown away, think that was my biggest yet! Okay, so, this chapter is dedicated to _xxhalestormxx_, just because I'm sure she's living inside my brain and knows everything I'm gonna do. That and she's awesome and deserves this. :)

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Two; First Impressions Matter.**

* * *

I leave my room, the suitcase still just on the floor. I could go back and pick it up, but then again, I still don't know whether this James kid is a murderer or not, so, maybe pissing him off is not the best idea. The hallway is white, just like the others. I don't know where James ran off to, but his calls is a good start.

"Carlos, come on, you're missing the fun!"

I turn down the next hallway, noticing the brunette standing at the end, bouncing up and day like a toddler when they get candy. Another trait to remind me of Rico. He always used to beg for sweets, cried when he didn't get them and then, bounce on the spot when he finally got what he wanted. That's something I've always tried to do. To never say no to Rico. That way, I can still protect the little bubble that he lives in, ensuring that no-one ever breaks it. Gets to him and then corrupts him.

As I walk down the hallway, I can hear the faint screams increasing, becoming more louder and clearer. My heart skips a beat, but I try to keep my composure. But every step brings me closer to the blood curdling screams and more importantly, the cause of it. Then, it catches my eye. It doesn't straightaway, but for some reason, the screams begin to bounce off the door and around the hallway, magnifying.

I stop, frozen, staring at the one thing that separates me and the person, girl I presume, screaming. A door. A solid, black, metal door with no window or anything. It looks more like a wall, except the brass handle. A small flap at the bottom makes me think of a jail, food being slid underneath. Something tells me that that person won't be leaving anytime soon.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

I fly back, like I've just been burned, landing against the wall. My heart hammers against my chest, so much so, I need my hand to clutch against it, praying it slows down. The screams soon become less painful and more angry. Hot white fury is no doubt flashing across that crazy's face. That is someone I don't want to meet. I almost laugh out loud when I realise that they are technically my new family, and with that, it follows the tradition of not being able to choose your family and assuming that yours is the most messed up in the world.

No-one knows what they're talking about when your newest family are also psychotic at the very least.

"Excuse me, but can you please leave the hallway?"

I turn to the voice. Some large man, with a horrible beard and even worse glasses looks down at me like I'm nothing more than scum. His white clothes make him look like a nurse. And he looks at me like scum? I'm not the one that looks like they change bed pans. His glares grows, and suddenly, I feel sickness rising in my stomach. His large hand dips into his pocket, pulling forth a rather large looking needle. He presses down the end, causing bluish liquid to squirt out.

"Now, unless you want to see what happens when you break the rules, I suggest you leave, sir," he smirks sadistically. "Unless you have plans on breaking the rules?"

"Depends. Is that a painful or relaxing drug?" I retort sarcastically.

Might as well make the most of my stay. Torment the workers and all that jazz.

His smile increases, darkening. "Leave before you find out."

With that last word, he opens and closes the door and for a brief second, I can see the wild curls on a brunette, thrashing about inside. Yeah, maybe I won't break the rules..

* * *

I turn the final corner, still following James' voice. Everytime I feel like I'm lost, I can hear his almost childish squeal calling for me, pleading with me to come and see the oh so magnificence recreation room. When I enter, I'm not surprised to find more white, only surprisingly, it's a lot larger and more spacious. The windows are still locked and barred up, but, I don't feel so claustrophobic. Inside, the wooden floor is still bleached, only decorated with a few rugs. Surprise surprise, grey.

You'd think that if there were some mad cases, a dash of colour would be benefiticial in them being a little less crazy perhaps.

I can see a few teenagers, scattered throughout the room. Some read, some just sit and stare at the wall and others, well, are slightly crazy and talking to themselves. Really, the more I explore, the less I see this as a correctional facility and more like a madhouse.

"Carlos! Carlos, hey Carlos, Carlitos!"

James is stood there, by the couch, jumping up and down like a small child. I can't help but grin and walk over. I guess if he acts like a child, you treat him like a child, maybe? I sit down, sinking into the leather.

"It's nice to meet you, Carlos, I'm Camille," the petite brunette next to him extends her hand out. I shake it, praying that maybe she isn't so crazy. "James has spoke a lot about you in such a short time."

"Has he? I guess that's a good thing, right?" I reply with a half-smile. She copies me, looking at James from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, he has a habit of scoping out the newbies and wanting to smother them. We don't get many new faces around here." Camille chuckles.

I nod, looking around the room. No-one in particular stands out, and then, I find my gaze staring at the brunette, sat at a table. A book is opened up, his fingers running along the paper, lips mumbling the words I guess. Something about him catches my attention and draws me in, yet, I have no idea why. He just seems so mysterious.

"So, Carlos, what do you wanna know?" Camille asks.

I snap out of my daze, confused. What do I wanna know? Well for starters, I'd like to know why everyone seems more crazy than criminal. "Err.. I guess, why are you in here?"

Camille laughs, picking up a magazine from the table. "Fraud. Well, attempted fraud. I never got the chance to actually explore my new identities. Wow, the things I would have done.."

She looks absentmindely at the magazine in her hand, as if the whole committing fraud is not a big deal. I guess it's not, well, it is, but in here it's not. It surprises me, actually, that someone that seems so calm is so daring.

"Fraud? That's pretty hardcore. What happened, why'd you get caught?"

Camille laughs lightly, folding the magazine and placing it down. "Well, you see, I put all my information onto the computer and yeah, apparently, people were watching my recent "suspicious" activities and yeah."

"That sucks."

"It most definitely does," Camille laughs again, only this time, a little bit more louder. "But hey, whatever. They think this place will help, but really, I'm just going to start again and be more clever about it. All paperwork, so there's nothing to trace."

I nod, finding my eyes keep leaning towards the boy at the table, still deathly focused on his book. The whole aura around him is so mysterious, it's hard not to want to know. The thing is, compared to some of the others, he doesn't look like he belongs here. That he's too pure and innocent for it. Sure, Camille looks normal and James acts like a baby most of the time, but really, I can see how they fit in.

With the boy, it doesn't. He stands out so much, you can't help but wonder why the hell he would be here and what he did. Then, as that question clouds my mind, I feel the need to wonder what James even done.

"What about you James, what did you do?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.

The minute the words escape my lips, I can see I've put my foot in my mouth. James goes from silently, bouncing on the seat so happily, to frozen. His whole body stiffens, face pales and just like that, snaps from happy to sad. Camille's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open as she quickly wraps an arm around James' shoulder. But it's too late. My heart lurches as I hear his muffled crying, tears soaking into her clothing. She cooes and soothes him, rubbing his back.

"It's okay James, he didn't mean anything. He was just curious, you know that, now calm down. Everything will be fine." Camille pleads.

The sobbing tones down, becoming less frantic and for a while, the guilt subsides. James pulls out, and once again, in the snap of my fingers, a grin forms on his face, white teeth in contrast to the reddened, glistening cheeks from the crying.

Camille lightly laughs, placing a hand on James' shoulder. "He err.. He gets like this. Don't worry, you just gotta be careful about what you say and how you say it.. James is very, err, childlike."

James nods his head frantically, allowing his brown bangs to fly with the motion. And yet, I don't feel so curious anymore. I'd rather not worry about scaring an emotionally unstable teenger into nothing. Then, out of nowhere, I can hear the faint noise of a buzzing sound, following by a click.

"It's time for lunch, come on Carlos, we'll show you the way to the canteen." Camille smiles, getting up and taking James by the hand, just like a child.

I follow, and once again, my eyes drift towards the table at the back. Only this time, the boy has vanished.

* * *

I follow Camille and James down the pristine white walls, thoughts peppering my mind. What's his name? Why's he here? Why's he so damn adorable?

"So Carlos, you never did tell us why you were sent here. Must have been bad, considering the rest of us were also bad." Camille says over her shoulder, in front of me, hand still linked with James'.

"I err, I just attacked someone, that's all."

James stops, turning to face me with a huge grin. "You two? High-five, we have so much in common!"

He sticks out his hand, still grinning and it takes me aback. Clearly, mental stability isn't his thing. Camille looks perplexed, staring at the hand in air, wondering whether I reply. I don't even know if I should. He got excited that we share that in common. That we attacked someone. But still, he could breakdown if I don't respond and seeing the water in his eyes, I oblige.

One minute ago, he got upset that I asked what he did. But the minute I mention mine and it's similar, he gets excited like a kid in a candy shop.

"Don't worry, we won't ask anymore. When you're comfortable, you can tell us. Besides, Dr. Philips usually makes us be open about. Part of the whole healing process, apparently."

The roll of her eyes tell me that she doesn't think it helps or she hates the woman or many more. I can't tell, but for me, talking about it won't help. It'll make me relive it, building the fire within until I'm ready to explode like a firework, showering down my anger on the world.

We keep walking, passing the door that the crazy girl was locked in earlier. I can still hear the muffled moaning and thudding against the door, only this time, it's more sedated and calm. But still, she's a fighter or a complete lunatic. Probably the former, seeing as this place is like that. We take down a flight of steps, noticing the other "family members" doing the same. Only 20 of us, so it's pretty scarse. Maybe the canteen will be huge like they have them in movies.

The smell of tuna catches my nose, and instantly, it turns. Always hated the stuff.

When we step in the room, I'm shocked to see only a few tables. Maybe they should take a note from the movies and make it bigger and better. It looks too much like school. I follow Camille and James over to the woman, grey in appearance and wearing her net, shovelling food onto some random, ginger boy's tray. Lettuce and tuna. Camille slides the tray along, collecting her food. Gone, James turns to me.

"I think Camille is pretty." James smiles.

"Do you now?" I smirk, realising that the boy has a crush on Camille. "Why don't you tell her?"

Then, once again, foot in mouth replays. His smile falters, turning into a tight frown. He dips his head, slides his tray along and emotionlessly asks for the same thing Camille got. My eyes widen, realising it's going to be more difficult than I thought. But then, he catches my eye again. Sat in the far at a table on his own, mindlessly stabbing his lettuce with a plastic fork, eyes still focused in on his book, reading along the lines with the cute way he uses his finger.

"What do you want?"

The woman's voice snaps me back to reality. I look at her, disgusted, noticing the mole on her chin. "Well, what do you recommend?"

"Food." she replies bluntly.

"Are you sure?" I peer over the hot counter, staring at the so-called food. "This stuff doesn't even look edible. Did you create it in a lab and then dish it up to us?"

She clearly doesn't find amusement in my talking, seeing as she just dumps a load of tuna and lettuce onto my plate, and once again, I find my nose turning itself up and my stomach doing flips at the mere smell of it. I look around, noticing that James' transformation has happened again, the brunette stood up, waving me down frantically. Still like Rico.

I walk over, avoiding the smell that seems to hate me. When I cross the room, a few stray eyes of random teenagers staring at me, I sit down, feeling more conscious than before.

"Hey Camille, I have a question," I ask, stabbing a leaf of lettuce with my plastic fork. Plastic, so no-one can try and kill someone. Thoughtful. "See the guy over there? What's his name?"

I use the leaf of lettuce to point at the guy, subtlely. Camille follows my gaze, noticing him before nodding. James, on the other hand, keeps to his food, scoffing it down rapidly like it's going to grow legs and walk away.

"That's Logan. He was here when I got trapped," Camille laughs dryly. "No-one really knows him. I mean, we know his name, but that's through the grapevine. Most people choose to ignore him."

That catches my attention. "Why's that? Surely he's like everyone else?"

I say the words carefully, wondering the limit as to which James could be set off. That and who knows how many others are around, watching me, ready to explode.

Camille shrugs her tiny shoulders, scooping up some tuna and eating it. "As I said, no-one really knows. He prefers to keep to himself. There's only person he'll talk too, really, but no-one would talk to that person either so.."

She trails off, eyes rushing to the door just as a blonde guy walks in. I walk him, noticing how his green eyes sparkle with a tinge of darkness. Something about him tells me he's the local badass. Or better yet, maybe he's the resident psychopath? He crosses the serving area, sliding the tray along. He keeps his eyes to himself, only turning slightly to catch me, staring at him. My heart leaps to my throat, and instantly, he smirks at me. But it's not a friendly or flirtatious smirk. It's a I'm-going-to-kill-you smirk, laced with evil.

He walks across the room, full of swagger, stopping at sitting down next to Logan. The brunette smiles sadly, looking up from his book for a moment before returning it. That's when I notice it. The whole room goes quiet in the boy's presence. Nobody says anything, noises of forks stabbing bowls stops and you can definitely feel the thick tension in the air.

Resident psychopath.

"Yeah, that's the guy.." Camille whispers. "Kendall. Arsonist, repeat offender and more importantly, totally twisted. Well, sort of twisted. Again, nobody talks to them so, it's anyone guess. When he joined, he stayed away from everyone. Then, for some reason, he befriended Logan and their friendship went from there, really."

"Oh right but-"

"And who do we have here?" I look from the tray slammed next to me on the table, to the person holding it. Blonde dude, well-built. He looks at me and smiles wickedly, taking a seat. "Nobody told me that there was a new guy in town. If I knew, I would have busted out the alcohol or something."

"Jett, do you think that's a good idea? You're not supposed to be drinking, remember? Sobriety and all." Camille raises an eyebrow smirks.

The guy, Jett, gasps and raises his fork at Camille, accusingly. "Don't swear, it's bad! Sobriety is a bad word!"

Camille laughs, going back to her salad. I take a glance at James, noticing his bowl is empty but he's looking at it longingly, praying for more to appear. Since I hate tuna, I begin to scrape it into his bowl and instantly, his grin appears and he resumes eating.

"So yeah, as you guess, Jett," Jett puts his hand out, and like Camille, I shake it. "What'd you do? Deal drugs? Take drugs? Or better yet, grow drugs?"

His eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face, I can tell he must be the comic relief. And an alcoholic, so clearly the life of the party then. "Assault."

"Oooooh, that's a tough," Jett decides on, using his fork to play with his food. "Yeah, I have a bunch of DUI's. I'm not even joking, god knows how many times I've been arrested whilst drunk."

"A lot?" I respond, unsure of the answer

"You are correct my friend!" Jett exclaims, which makes me smile. "My rich parents usually pay me out. But now, I'm supposed to treat this place like a rehab and a way to right all my wrongs. Stupid, right?"

"Totally stupid." I nod my head, trying not to laugh at all.

Jett goes to eating his food, James is shovelling his food down his throat and Camille is tentatively playing with hers. I've decided I don't like the food, which sucks and my stomach agrees. It twists and knots itself. My eyes glance over one last time to Logan and Kendall, thoughts dancing on my mind.

"And what did you do.." I mumble to myself, eyes focused on Logan more than anything.

* * *

**I love writing these personalities! I like writing Jett as a good guy, rather than a bad guy. :) But this makes everything interesting. I promised Kett, and as we know, they clash as it is. This should definitely be entertaining. ;)**

**So now you've met Camille & Jett and found out their problems. Same with James' problem and only a hint on Carlos'.**

**Kendall's has been mentioned, but I'll go more into that when I let Carlos meet him. And Carlos' reason will be revealed as the chapters go along.**

**For now, I think I have this story planned out for 15 chapters in total.**


	3. Risque

**Once again, massive hugs to these people that reviewed. I love this and this is my baby, so, that makes all you my babies. Hugs for **_love-bubbles_ _and_ _you_ _babe_, _brittney_, _DramaJen89_, _TremorsThatBreakAHeart_, _krehpeh_, _Brownsugar12_, _holyhotcakes_, _nigelbtrlover24_, _Cookie_ _Monster_ _Giggles_, _Mr. President_ **and the ever so lovely**, _Aeroja_.

Your alerts and favourites were welcomed and loved and ahh! Can't believe I got so many.

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Three; Risque.**

* * *

I can hear the faint buzz and the click again, although god knows where it's actually coming from. My gaze follows the many kids, climbing up out of their chairs and once again, my eyes find Logan, like magnets pulling together. I won't lie, something about him just seems to captivate me so much, it's hard to multi-task. Throughout the whole lunch, James kept quiet, disappointed everytime his bowl was empty of food and perked up when someone gave them his. Camille, Jett and I just kept to casual conversation, although Jett on many occassions, turned it more risque.

"So Carlos, was that your first assault? Any previous charges we should be worry about?" Jett questions, eyebrow raised. "Please don't be another kleptomaniac. I have to deal with one of those, another would terrible. Always stealing my shit."

I smirk, walking down the hall, Camille and James in front. "First charge."

"Fuck," Jett gasps. "Must have been bad for you to end up here. Don't get me wrong, some of these "crimes" aren't so bad, yet, they still ended up here. Me? Mine was multiple, they had no choice. That and my douches that I call parents decided I need to "man up" a bit."

"Is fraud a major thing then?" I reply. Surely, Camille's offence shouldn't have been so bad to be thrown in here.

"It is when they found more than one identity," Jett scoffs. "She well and truly messed that up. If it was one, they would have just slapped her wrist and dealt her parents a fine. But no, they went and found tons of different ID's and bam, she got thrown in here."

I nod my head, letting the words sink in. So this place is for teenagers who repeat offence, or, complete over-the-top with their crime.

"James' was over-the-top, wasn't it?" I whisper, hoping that James doesn't hear and have a meltdown.

"It's James," Jett scoffs again. "Pretty boy doesn't exactly look that dangerous. But his mood swings definitely catch everybody else off guard. Even the guy he put in hospital."

I stop, dead in my tracks, letting Camille and James walk further ahead. Jett stops with me, eyeing me up, wondering what the hell I'm doing, no doubt. Put a guy in hospital? Maybe James can read minds or something, because funny enough, he was right about having a lot of things in common.

"Seriously?"

"Yup," Jett nods his head, popping the 'p'. "Put it this way, James' mood swings effect everything around him. For example, he has a lucky comb. Never touch it. Ever. It's his baby."

"Why not?" I ask, curious. A lucky comb? That's strange..

"Because he tried to jam it down someone's throat last time." Jett replies, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. Really? To me, that's a big deal, some crazy, good-looking teenage boy trying to jam a comb down my throat.

"Explain."

"Basically, James doesn't really talk about it so we don't know the full facts except what Dr. Philips makes us say in group therapy once a week," Jett smirks. "James was in a public toilet, using his comb, put it down and left it behind without realising. When he did, he ran back and found some random dude just casually using it, running it through his hair. James flipped and assaulted him. Pinned him to the ground, beat him to a bloody pulp and then tried to jam the comb down his throat."

It all takes me aback. James? The cute, harmless James that seems more child-like than an actual child? It doesn't make sense. His mood swings seem crazy, sure, but to try and kill someone for using their item? That's crossing the border between insanity and straight jackets.

"That's err.. Harsh."

"So yeah, I wouldn't touch his comb. The thing is, he's so child-like, he needs it. It's like his blanket or teddy. It's for comfort and seeing someone else use it," Jett side-smiles, trying not to laugh, I presume. "Sends him into a fury. A kid here used it by accident.. That's why we went down from 20 to 19 and there was a free space for you."

"He killed someone?"

"Nah," Jett swipes his hand at me, biting back a full blown laugh. "Just seriously maimed and freaked him out. He got transferred."

I nod, once again confused and clouded by everything new I find out. It's crazy, freaky and more importantly, it scares me. It scares me that a nice boy would try to kill someone for touching an inanimate object, that a crazy girl is locked up behind a door, that the two most 'normal' people here are a fraudster and a drunken frat boy. Me and Jett continue our walk back to the recreational room, knowing that my life for a year is forever going to be screwed.

* * *

The recreational room has packed up a lot after lunch. Nearly all the seats are occupied, and yet, our couch is free. It's almost as if everybody chooses to leave it alone. Maybe it's because Camille is a borderline sociopath, though she'd never admit it, or that James is secretly so unstable, he'll kill someone for annoying him.

Either that or people just have a routine.

My eyes fall back to the brunette, sat at his table, book still glued to his eyes. It's cute and quirky and definitely not normal. There must be more to him.

Whilst everyone takes a seat, I stay standing, debating whether to try it or not. Talking never hurt anyone, right? Unless it's James, apparently.

"Err guys, I'm err, gonna go mingle a bit. Talk around." I flail.

Quickly, Camille pounces. "Why?"

"I dunno. You're telling me you've been here for god knows how long and never spoke to the others, once?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Jett scoffs, ducking his head to grab a magazine whilst James looks on at me with bewildered, doe-like eyes.

"There's a kinda system, Carlos. People are in groups, a bit like high school, I guess. We don't exactly mingle that much. Only when we have too," Camille states calmly. "Otherwise, things get messy."

"Messy?"

"Yeah, you see Carlos, we tend to stick with the people we do therapy and class with," Jett cuts in with a charming smile. "Since there are like, 20 of us, we split off into two groups of 10 for classes and group therapy."

"So I can't speak to anyone that isn't in my therapy or class? Wait, I'm confused. How do you guys even know I'm in your class or therapy?" I question with curiousity. What if I'm not supposed to mix with them at all because of this?

"The guy James scared away was in our class. So we're down by a guy." Jett chuckles.

Instantly, James' eyes wide and he leans forward in his seat. "I didn't scare him away! He was a meanie, anyway!"

The pout at the end of the sound of his whine makes it clear the childlike part of him is intact. So that means he isn't always crazy, just to the ones he doesn't like. So obviously he does like Jett.

"I'm sorry, James," Jett pouts mockingly. "As I was saying, you're in our class so you can only interact with the others. It's our hidden, unspoken code of conduct."

"The way it's always been." Camille shrugs.

I balance myself from from left foot to right, crossing my arms. "W-What about Logan? Is he this group or the other?"

"Oh, Logan? Yeah, you can go speak to him. He's in our part." Camille nods, letting her brown curls spill in front of her face.

I place a hand to my forehead, brain pulsating through the knowledge that just seems to confuse me even more. "I'm really confused. You said that you only knew Logan's name and even that was through the grapevine. If he was in our class bit or whatever you call it, wouldn't you know more?"

"Not technically," Camille drawls, picking up a magazine. "Even in group therapy, they make us speak. Well, she makes us speak. She forces you too, and yet, she's never forced Logan. She doesn't pester or nag or push him like the rest of us to open up. She just leaves him to himself and Kendall."

"But I can talk to him?"

"If you must, but as I said, people choose to ignore him so it's unlikely you'll get a response," Camille shrugs her tiny shoulders. "Just don't come crying to us when it doesn't work out."

Jett scoffs again, sniggering into the folds of his magazine. What's so funny? With confused eyes, I walk over to the table at the back, ready to speak to the boy that's been bugging my mind ever since I saw him. I take a glance around the room, wondering what other kids are in this group of mine. Who I'm allowed to speak to and who I must avoid like the plague because of the conduct.

It's crazy, it really is. Then again, this whole place is fucking crazy and you have to be crazy to be sent here. So what does that make me?

As I approach the table, I can see Logan hasn't noticed me. I sigh, relieved, sliding the chair out opposite him. It startles him, though, as he snaps his head up with wide eyes.

"Hi, I'm Carlos," I smile a toothy grin, desperate to make a good impression. "I'm the new guy that's in your.. Group thingy."

He nods, lowering his head slightly to avoid my gaze. "Logan."

"I know, Camille and Jett told me," I smile. He looks so cute, it's ridiculous. "That and the unspoken conduct about mixing with your own."

Once again, Logan nods, eyes switching between the sides of the table on either side of his book. Either way, he doesn't meet my eyes. "Yeah, it's a weird rule."

"Tell me about it," I sigh. "So, what you reading?"

"Shakespeare," Logan replies quietly, causing my heart to thud loudly. "A Midsommers Night Dream."

"I would like to say I've read it or watched it, but I haven't." I smirk.

That gets him. He laughs lightly, looking up finally. I catch the sight of his beautiful eyes, the way they shimmer and it truly makes my heart flutter even more. "You don't seem like the reading type, no offence."

"None taken," I laugh. "I'm more your active, thrill-seeker."

Logan nods with a smile. "You can borrow it some time, if you want?"

"Sure, that'll be good, I guess." I smile.

I stand up, ready to leave. Pushing it could do more harm than good, so, leaving it at that is at least safe. I can't do wrong when I'm away, right? I nod and smile one last time, sealing the beginning of our friendship.

* * *

"No." Camille says, looking up for her magazine.

"I just wanna know why the two classes keep to themselves, that's all. Nothing major, I'm just curious." I plead, praying she tells me. I wanna know why I have to be confined to talking to just 9 other people, 2 of those I've been told I should avoid because everyone else does.

Camille sighs, placing the magazine down. "Okay, look, it goes like this. The classes tend to keep to themselves because in the group therapy once a week, you're expected to share everything about yourself to a bunch of strangers and it makes people uncomfortable. Plus, there also seems to be a rivalry between us."

"It's definite," Jett cuts in. "Dak thinks he's so fucking great, just because he's an idiot drug dealer. He likes to think he's better than us."

"Does that actually matter though?" I ask, confused. Dak? Who's he?

"Yeah!" Jett makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. "He started the rivalry, we just participated."

"So how does this rivalry work?"

"Well it err.. It doesn't, actually," Jett tones down, making me want to laugh. "We just made the divide even more obvious. Dak leads his group and basically, makes them all ignore us. We do the same. That and he's just a knob."

"The only difference being, not everyone gets on with everyone in their group," Camille points out. "It's just forbidden that you talk with someone from the 'other side'".

"So basically, I'm limited down to talking to 9 other people for a year, because of some thing that this Dak guy started?"

"Yes." Jett replies with a sarcastic grin.

"How do I know who these people are, exactly? Some sort of secret handshake, password, what?" I bite back my growing laugh.

"There's us, obviously," Jett points to himself, Camille and James. "Then Kendall and Logan are from our class, as well as Stephanie, Elliott, Regina and Isobel."

"And who are those?" I question the blonde.

He points his finger to two girls in the far corner, sat talking together, one with red hair and the other with blonde. There's also a boy with shaggy brown hair, not far from them but definitely alone. "That's Regina and Isobel, the guy is obviously Elliott. We don't speak to them much, but we're a unit, so it's like, you tolerate them. It's Blues against Reds. We stick together, obviously. It's always a fellow Blue over a Red anyday."

He finishes the sentence with a wink. I nod, searching the room. The girl, Stephanie, is missing and quickly, my stomach drops. I think I know who she is.

"Stephanie is currently under lockdown," Jett smirks. "And if you don't know that, it's what we call "The Box"."

"What?" I shake my head, trying to absorb everything but getting nothing. Seriously, more and more I feel like I've fallen down a rabbit hole and ended up in Wonderland.

"It's a small room, with no windows and no light. Complete darkness," Camille quips in. "You get put in there when you break Dr. Philips rules, which are strict. You stay in there for god knows how long, depended on the severity."

"And how long has Stephanie been in there?"

"This would be her third day, actually." Camille smiles with a nod.

"And these are the only people I'm allowed to talk too?" I ask both Camille and Jett again. I would question James, but he seems in his own world, making a paper aeroplane from paper he ripped from a booklet, mumbling to himself.

"Well you can try and talk to the Reds, but it won't work. It's been around since we came here, Carlos, there's no changing rules and tradition. You talk to a Red, they'll instantly reject you," Jett laughs, wrapping an arm over my shoulder. "We're more welcoming and friendly. But no. No speaky to the bad people."

"Reds? What are we, the Blues?" I laugh sarcastically.

I look at Jett, noticing him completely unfazed. "Yeah, we're the Blues. You got a timetable with therapy sessions coloured in blue, right? Well, that's us. I know, creative."

I go to open my mouth to respond, completely and utterly mind fucked over the situation, when a girl with brunette hair appears. Instantly, I recognise her as the girl behind the door, the crazy one, Stephanie.

"Stephanie, how you feeling?" Camille asks softly.

Stephanie rubs her face harshly with her hand, strands of her unruly hair sticking out different sides. Even has the look of a crazy girl. "It was rough but it always is."

"Next time, don't steal from Dr. Philips, it's too dangerous." Camille presses.

Stephanie waves her away with her hand, closing her eyes like she has a hangover. "I'm a kleptomaniac, even the devil's bitch should know that, she is the one that treats me."

"Kleptomaniac?" I ask timidly, seeing as a thief usually doesn't throw her temper around and bang doors down until she's been sedated, and even then, still fights.

"And you are, pretty boy?"

"That's Carlos, Steph," Camille smiles. "Yeah, she's a thief. Why she got put in here. Apparently, stealing food from shops is okay. Trying to rob a shop that sells guns, isn't."

"I didn't know there were guns, I just like to take things, that's all." Stephanie defends herself quietly.

I lay back against the couch, realising that not only is the family divided, but from where I stand, all the crazies seem to be on my side. And they think others have family issues, maybe they should meet my temporary family. That'll shut them up.

* * *

I fall back onto my bed, letting the softness just smother me. I need to relax. One day and I already know so much that my brain could fry. The ceiling is pure white, like everything else. I shouldn't even be surprised anymore. But to me, it's like a canvas where I can paint a picture. A picture that isn't anything to do with this nuthouse.

Rico, playing in the garden on a hot day. Me grabbing a water gun, squirting him as he giggles and runs around, soaked. The hot sun beating down on us as we play knights in the treehouse. The wooden swords, tin foil crowns and capes made out of mom's curtains.

Then, it turns.

The screams from the house. Me protecting Rico, hugging him tightly, holding my hands over his ears, praying that he doesn't hear a thing. Fighting through the pain, unable to do anything. Sound of glass and ceramics smashing, shattering, falling to pieces. I shake the thought away, noticing a shadow in my doorway, illuminated by the little lamp on my bedside table.

"I think it's about time we met, don't you think, Carlos?"

I push myself onto elbows, squinting at the figure. He's a guy, that much I do know.

Slowly, he enters my room, the shadow fading into an actual person. "I'm Kendall, although, I'm sure people have spoke about me. They tend to do in this place."

His voice sounds neutral, not completely psychotic at all, compared to the smile that I saw. "Yeah.. Err, Camille filled me in."

"I see. Well, I just thought you should speak to me, seeing as you spoke to Logan." Kendall replies emotionless.

"Yeah, I just wanted to get to know people that I've been told I'm allowed too," I laugh, waiting for him to catch on. He doesn't and my laughing soon fades. "Something about Blues and Reds and all that."

He nods. "Yeah."

Don't give me anything to work with then. "So.. Erm, how lo-"

"Look, Carlos, Logan means a lot to me. A lot," Kendall steps forward, fire in his eyes and a voice that has turned cold. "If you hurt him, I swear to you, your time in here will be even worse."

"I've barely spoke to him.." I respond quietly.

His smile soon turns sadistic, corners of his lips reaching under his eyes. "Yeah, maybe we should keep it like that."

He turns on his heel, walking back out the door. He stops, turns and smiles once more.

"Unless you like playing fire."

* * *

**Wabam. Stephanie was the girl behind the door. She's not as crazy as she sounds, I promise.. Okay, maybe she is.. But there's a reason and that has something to do with the correction facility, not her personally.**

**I love James, he's so childlike and dangerous. :')**

**And Jett is equally amazing to write as a good guy. Ow, I love these so much. It's so refreshing.**

**And meet Kendall - he's not all psycho, either. There's more to him than meets the eye. :) And scratch out what I said before. I thought it would be only 15 chapters, but I have a funny feeling it might extend more. For now, the definite number hasn't been finalized.**

**Don't take my word on it. I'm so unreliable. **


	4. Moonlight Escapades

**Once again, I want to thank these amazing people for reading and reviewing. Without you, I don't know where I would be. I love you all. Huge hugs for **_love-bubbles and you babe_, _KEALY KAMES, brittney_,_ Mr. President_, _DramaJen89_,_ nigelbtrlover24_, _xxhalestormxx_, _LoneWolfie_, _CarlosZorro_,_ Cookie Monster Giggles_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_ **and my good ole' friend,** _Aeroja_.

Favourites and alerts were loved! Ahh, you guys amaze me.

I understand that the story could be confusing, particularly the part about Reds and Blues. Think.. Harry Potter and the four houses. The Reds and Blues are like Gryffindor and Slytherin. I also understand that people might be slightly worried as to why I've used so many characters and the problems that could follow.. No worries, people! I have everything covered. :)

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Four; Moonlight Escapades.**

* * *

I walk slowly down the hallway, careful not to wake anyone. I hear the faint sound of a mixture of boys, different types of breathing and even the odd snore. I pass the door next to my room, knowing that Jett stays in there. He was kind enough to tell me, well, scare me as much as possible when I went to bed. Even knocked on my wall a few times, just to stop me sleeping because clearly, he's the funniest person alive.

Just down the hall, I can see the slight stream of light, pouring out into the hallway through the cracks around the door. This would be the third night in a row I've seen it, seeing as my body gets tired and wants to sleep, Jett snaps me out of it and then I spend most of the night, wide awake. Something stirs in me, and for a moment, wondering whether it's a precious Blue or a devious Red, I begin to walk towards it.

As I approach the room, my heart thuds. I know that feeling. It happens all the time since that fateful encounter with Logan. Then Kendall went and ruined it and scared the hell out of me, so much so, I avoided Logan for a while, in the fears that the crazy shit doesn't track me down and flay me alive. Peeking into the room from the door being left slightly ajar, I can see Logan, sat cross-legged on his bed, book in hand as the soft light from the bottle lamp illuminates his face, increasing the shadows and making his porcelain like skin glitter. He looks truly stunning.

"I see you're awake." I whisper.

His head snaps up, eyes wide. When he notices it's me, they tone down slightly. "Oh Carlos.. I was, just err, reading again."

"Shakespeare still?" I smile softly, tilting my head more in.

He nods, a small almost invisible smile painting on his face. "Yeah.. Same book."

"I see, mind if I come in?"

Logan nods again, his eyes striking me like lightning. "Yeah sure."

I step into the room, noticing it looks vaguely different to mine. Same white walls, wooden floor and barred window, but instead, Logan has a small, still white, bookcase sat in the corner, lined with tons of different books by different authors, the colours standing out against the white canvas.

"You got a lot of books," I whistle. "Like reading that much, I take it?"

"It's my escape," Logan replies quietly. "Lets me leave the world I actually live in and dive into somewhere where it's much better. More softer and less cruel."

"That sounds pretty awesome, I didn't know books could do that."

"Clearly you don't read much," Logan lightly laughs and once again, the sickening butterfly feeling purges in my stomach, making me feel weightless. "But yeah, it's awesome.

"Maybe I should. Would give us something to talk about." I smile, turning back to face Logan. He sits there, switching his eyes between the book in his lap and me, just like at the table. I can already tell me must be socially-awkward or at least has severe shyness. Either one is adorable and bit by bit, I find myself falling.

"That would be good," Logan lightly smiles, looking up at meeting my eyes. "I'd like that a lot."

I nod, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth and biting. "Kendall came and saw me a few nights back.. He's err, he's very protective of you, isn't he?"

A slight blush claws at Logan's face and he tilts his head down. "I'm sorry.. He can be like that."

"It's no problem," I assure him. Even though it is, because Kendall seems terribly scary. "I'm just not to keen on being his target for talking to you."

"He won't do nothing.." Logan quietly responds and once again, it's like we've took a step back and I already regret it. "It's just.. It's just a, err, him taking precautions."

"Precautions for what?"

"Err Carlos, I'm getting kind of tired.." Logan mumbles, placing his book on the side and getting up. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, yeah, erm, see you in the morning. Sweet dreams."

Logan nods as he turns the bottle lamp off, amber glow dying out. I sigh, stepping back out the room and into the hallway. I close the door behind me quietly, still afraid to make a sound. I'm not even sure if Dr. Philips is prissy with her curfews and such. I made so much progress in a short time, and then, I stabbed myself in the foot. It's gonna take a lot more to open him up. Good thing I have a year, then.

* * *

I close the door behind me, making sure it's sealed tight. As I turn around, though, I'm faced with Jett, grin like a chesire cat. I jump back against my door with a thud, clenching my heart to control the pounding.

"Got you!" Jett cheers.

"Thanks a fucking lot, Jett," I moan, taking deep heavy breaths. "It's not enough keeping me up, but now you're trying to kill me? I thought you were just a drunk, not a murderer."

"I'm wounded," Jett pouts. "Well, I'm just getting you used to what it's like here in Springwood."

What it's like? I have a good enough guess already. 20 kids, divided to hate each other, some mentally unstable whilst the others just seem completely crazy. All criminals, problematic and slightly messed up in their own ways.

"And what's that, exactly?" I question him as we begin to walk down the hall."

"Well, most nights, you can probably hear screaming," Jett shrugs, like it's no big deal. "There is always someone locked up in The Box. Most of the time it is Stephanie, but sometimes it's not. I've not been in there yet, but that's because I'm a good boy."

His smile doesn't convince me. "Don't you mean, you've just never been caught?"

"Same difference," Jett waves it away. "But as I said, as much as I've told Stephanie to calm it, she doesn't. Same for the others. It's a natural reaction to being shut in a small room, enclosed for days on end, no sunlight or interaction. Could drive the strongest crazy."

"That explains you all then." I smirk, gaining a punch to the shoulder from Jett.

"I'm serious, Carlos, it's hard. It is best if you try to avoid it, but someone like Stephanie, she's unable to avoid it. It's in her instinct to steal things, no matter how dangerous."

I nod, turning to see our "classroom" appear. It's not really a classroom, just a small room with a blackboard and 10 singular wooden desks for us. We don't get books to keep, or even homework, which is about the only good side I've seen of this whole place besides Logan. Anything can be used as a weapon, Dr. Philips said. They hand us paper and pencils, taking them away at the end.

We walk in, noticing that the other kids in our little group have already arrived. The ones Jett told me were boring, but more than likely, actually do want to go home and don't see this as a holiday where they can cause trouble for the sake of not getting a prison sentence. Or rehab, in Jett's case.

Camille and James soon come in, followed by Stephanie, with a shifty smile on her face like she's just done something wrong. They each take their seats, and surprisingly, all seem to surround me. Good thing I never cared much for school anyway, because it doesn't look like I'd be able to concentrate.

Dr. Philips enters the room, red hair tied back and white coat wrapped around her body. Her heels click against the ground as she stands there, looking at the class. She catches my eye and her tight smile soon turns into a more cold one, directed at me. I freeze under the glare. Not once has a woman terrified me so much.

"Don't show no fear," Stephanie whispers from next to me. "She loves the stuff. Craves on it like a vampire to blood. Just think of her as a vampire, that's what I do."

I turn, smiking at her words. "Vampire, really?"

Stephanie nods, shifty smile never faltering once. "I think the best way to get rid of her would be holy water or stake to the heart.. The stake is more my preference, but hey, I hate her, you don't just yet."

She moves to the front, just as Kendall and Logan appear in the doorway, the blonde shadowing the brunette protectively. Yep, he definitely scares me. Logan's eyes lock with mine, and whilst I'm waiting for a smile, even a small tiny one, I don't get it. Instead, Kendall leads him into the room and into a seat, the whole time with Logan avoiding my gaze. What happened? No doubt last night freaked him out. Yeah, me being all stalker-like clearly didn't sit too well with him. I wouldn't blame him, trapped in a house with a bunch of psychopaths.

"Why do you hate her so much?" I question her quietly as Dr. Philips proceeds to shuffle some papers.

"The woman's had it out for me since I arrived. Why do you think I spend so much in The Box?"

"Because you steal stuff all the time?.." I raise my eyebrow.

She waves her hand slightly to dismiss me. "Not just that. Because I know things other people don't. People think I steal random crap, which I do, but I also go for the more valuable stuff in some cases. I know more about Dr. Philips then she thinks. But she's caught me, more than once, so she has a careful eye on me."

I go to open my mouth to respond, when I'm cut off before a word has left my lips.

"Ah, Ms. King, care to share with the rest of us what you whispered to Mr. Garcia? Sharing is caring, after all, but this isn't group therapy, this is normal class hours. Would you like to share?" Dr. Philips announces from the front.

Stephanie shifts awkwardly in her seat, taking her time for an answer. "Nothing important, just life at Springwood."

"I'm sure Mr. Garcia is well-adjusted by now. If he's worried about the rules, then I suggest he asks you after class, seeing as you've broke them all."

Stephanie nods, being reduced by the preppy, loud teenager I know to a quiet, submissive girl. Just like that, the Ice Queen has reduced a kid from something to nothing. From an individual to a mindless clone. Camille did point out that she likes things her way and makes sure she gets it, one way or the other.

I look from Stephanie, seeing her cower in her seat, to Dr. Philips, picking up a piece of chalk with a tight, cold smile and turning around. Then, my eyes fall on Logan, being carefully watched by Kendall. Things just get weirder and weirder.

* * *

"God, I just hate her so much!" Stephanie almost yells as we walk down the hallway.

Camille quickly shushes her. "We all do. But unless you want her after you, you should be quiet."

"You're going soft, Cam." Stephanie pouts.

"It's not called going soft, it's called being tactical. Sure, she's a bitch, but she controls the place we live in. She can hear us and we wouldn't know about it until that walking mountain has thrown us into The Box and injected us with some shit." Camille defends herself.

I bite back a smile, looking at James, unusually quiet.

"Are you okay James? You seem a bit down."

He looks at me, his eyes glossed in sadness. Then, his jaw falls and he almost looks ready to cry. Which he does and once again, I feel guilty for making him cry. Like it's a usual thing, I make James cry and Camille dashes over, going all mother hen and scooping the fragile, mentally unstable boy into her arms for protection. I hear the faint sobbing against her clothes as we come to a stop in the hallway.

"Oh dear, not again," Stephanie complains. I look at her, confused, which she finds mildly amusing, gaining a smirk. "James gets like this quiet often. Usual it's just after group therapy, where he's forced to relive certain stuff. Another reason why I hate that bitch. People like James don't need to be reminded of what they done. But she is cruel and sadistic and gains some sick pleasure at reducing us to nothing more than either blubbering wrecks or cowards."

"Is that why you cowered when she questioned you?" The words slip out of my mouth and Stephanie's smirk disappears.

"I guess, she just, there is this weird coldness to her that you'll get used too as days move on."

I nod, looking back at James and Camille, before staring at Jett, his eyes focused on something further down the hallway. I follow the line of sight, noticing a group of two boys further down, talking. From sight, I can tell it's not any of the people from my class. So that makes them Reds and right now, I feel like a lion protecting themselves in the wild against another clan.

But Jett's stare is obvious, seeing as the boys catch on almost immediately and begin walking towards us. As their faces reach the light, I can make them out. One I even recognise from my first day, walking past when being shown my room. One is reasonably muscular, thick black hair and piercing eyes. His follower has sandy coloured hair and soft brown eyes. He looks quite good, then again, he did catch my eye on the first day. But so did Logan.

"Ah, if it isn't the Blues," the dark-haired one smirks. "Have fun in therapy, did we? I can tell by the sobbing wreck that it must have been entertaining."

"Screw you, Dak," Jett quickly steps in. "At least we act like a family."

"Someone has been fucking Dr. Philips for too long," Dak smiles sickly. His eyes fall on me, and similar to the adults in the place, I shrink. "Treating you well, are they? I should hope so. Blues have a reputation of being quiet, volatile with their "family members"."

That catches James' ear, seeing as he was the one that maimed the other kid so badly he had to transfer. He breaks down into more uncontrollable sobs, body shaking as Camille attempts to soothe him.

"You're such a cunt Dak," Stephanie glares. "You too Marcus, or should I say, bitch number 1."

"I'm not his bitch, we're equal." Marcus shoots back.

"No, Marcus, I'm in charge," Dak raises an eyebrow, turning back to me once more. "What's your name, newbie?"

"Carlos."

"Funny name." Dak smirks.

"I could say the same about Dak, to be quite honest."

His grin soon grows wider, and for a moment, the sadistic side of it has vanished. Instead, it looks proud and smug, even a tiny bit flirtatious. The blood boils inside me, and once again, like a firework, I could easily rain down my anger on him and Marcus. But I choose not too. Ungripping my fist, I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and opening them again.

"I think you should think before you speak." I say calmly.

"I'll take that into consideration in the future," Dak nods, turning to walk away. "It was nice talking to you, Carlos."

With that last word, he turns and begins to walk the same way he approached us, Marcus in tow. The atmosphere is still thick. I look at Camille, finding James pushing his way out of her hug. He moves forward a few steps, gripping his fist.

"And don't bother coming back!" James shouts down the hall at them, despite being out of hearing range.

It takes everything not to laugh and looking at the others, I can tell they feel the same. Maybe I could get used to this. Depending on whether they'll be more trouble with the Reds and their obnoxious leader, Dak. As we begin to walk down the hall, I find his smile lingering in my brain. Why did it seem flirtatious?

* * *

Once again, I'm unable to sleep. Something about this place just unsettles me. For once, since arriving here, Jett left me alone for the night, not banging on the wall every other minute. I actually thought I'd be able to sleep. But no, I'm being fucking punished. My body feels heavy, my footsteps aren't so light anymore as I begin to walk down the hallway. I've given up caring, I just want to sleep.

Rubbing my eyes with my hand, I notice the same glimmer of light, pouring from Logan's room. Trying to slow myself down and be more stealthier, I approach it, wondering why he can never sleep either. Maybe he is a psycho like the others, he's just more defined and careful about showing it, compared to James' mood swings and Camille's clear sign of borderline sociopathy. But it's Logan. Sweet and innocent Logan, the boy I barely know but know enough that he wouldn't hurt anyone.

There has to be some other reason.

I knock lightly on the door, fist pounding against the wood.

"Can I come in?" I say quietly, catching Logan's attention. This time, he doesn't even flinch. Must be getting used to me popping up everywhere.

He looks up, soft eyes glowing. "Sure."

"You know, we have to stop meeting like this." I chuckle lightly.

It gains a response. Not a massive one, but still, his soft laugh manages to make my body flutter. "Should I be worried that I have a stalker?"

"Certainly not," I smile. "I just can never sleep. It's weird, here, it doesn't feel like home to me."

Logan nods. "I guess. You'll get used to it, though."

I begin to walk over to his bed, sitting carefully on the edge. He looks at me for a moment, and once again, just like Logan, begins to switch his gaze from the book in his hand to my eyes.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"It takes a while for my body to shut down," Logan confesses. "That and when it gets dark, I feel claustrophobic. The room just shrinks in my eyes."

"Oh right. Do you, err, have claustrophobia or whatever it's called?"

"Not really, I just, it's a long story to explain." Logan side-frowns.

"I have time," I quickly chirp up. This is the longest conversation I could ever have with him. I want to ask why he couldn't meet my eyes earlier, when Kendall was with him. But that could push him away and fuck, I don't want that to happen again to me. "I have all the time in the world."

Logan takes a moment to answer, pursing his lips. "Unfortunately, I don't. I'm sorry, Carlos, but I think I need to sleep."

And once again, he cuts me off and wants me to leave. My heart hurts, but there's nothing more I can do except take the hint and go. If I keep pushing, I'll only make him grow further apart. There's something about Logan I need, want, crave for and losing him so early on is something that scares me, even if it sounds immature when I barely know him. But I want to get to know him more than anything.

"Okay, well, sweet dreams Logan."

I get up and begin to walk towards the door, when the light goes out and he responds.

"Sweet dreams, Carlos."

I smile, closing the door. Progress made.

* * *

**Oh my. Dak is my villain for once. Well, correction, no-one is really the villain in this. Except the twisted adults. The teenagers are just all complicated and mysterious, and obviously, some are more dangerous than others.**

**It'll work out, I promise.**

**Logan and Carlos are too cute, with their random meetings and Logan's shyness. :') Stephanie and Jett are by far the best. I love their characters so much, it's unreal. Okay, so, the rivalry between Blues and Reds will become more clear as chapters go on. Things get more twisted, also, as things go on.**

**I'm also putting an important note here; My good friend, _MoonbabyAstroRock3r_, has left FF in favour of school. He won't be returning and his stories won't be updated. He asked me to let people know that read his stories. He was my first friend here and the bestest friend a guy could ask for, so I just wanted to give him his final shout-out and wish him luck!**

**Bye stalker, I'll miss you!**


	5. More Than Meets The Eye

**I would like to send out massive thanks to these people. You all deserve cookies or something. Love for **_Cookie Monster Giggles_, _nigelbtrlover24_, _krehpeh_, _KEALY KAMES_, _Mr. President_, _brittney_, _xxhalestormxx_, _Mickey_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_, _OsnapitzTORi_, _miss. gold_, _CarlosZorro_,_ ZeldaLove Akira-Chan_ **and obviously, the ever sweet,** _Aeroja_.

Once again, your favourites and alerts were loved millions and millions.

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Five; More Than Meets The Eye.**

* * *

I sit down into the chair, staring around at the room. Compared to the rest of the place, I'm not surprised that Dr. Philips' office isn't white. She seems like a blood red and black kinda person, anyway. Or maybe that's just Stephanie and her thoughts pouring into my mind, tainting it. I wouldn't be surprised. Unlike the others, she seems to have very forward thoughts on things. I guess that's a good thing, but in here, it might not be.

"Now, Mr. Garcia, how are things?" Dr. Philips questions me, quiet sternly, placing her hands on the desk. "How has your first week been, settling in? As you can tell, you didn't have any group therapy this week. It does happen weekly, but since you were new, we didn't want to push you into something so quickly."

"Yeah, it was fine." I carefully eye her, watching her pale face which doesn't flinch. The woman could be made of concrete.

She nods her head, a smile small playing on her lips. "I can see you've hit it off with Ms. King. I should warn you, however, that Ms. King is very temperamental."

"I don't think she's that bad."

"Ah, but you see, you seem very convinced of that in such a short space of time," Dr. Philips smile turns tight. "You'll soon learn that many families are dysfunctional and we are the same. We're a family with our fair share of problems, and unfortunately, Ms. King falls under that category more than others."

"You really don't like her, do you?" I find myself smiling, realising that Stephanie's views seem proven.

Her smile turns south. "It's not the case of liking or disliking her, Mr. Garcia. People are in here because they are criminals. Some common, some extreme. I suggest you don't place all your cards on the table so soon when it comes to certain people. Everyone has history, some can be quite dark. How about we try not getting hurt and try to keep ourselves out of trouble whilst we're in here, yes?"

I nod. Heartless and cold aren't the right word. Throughout the whole sentence, her lips stay in a straight line, moving to her words but laced with venom. Stephanie is clearly at the top of her list and it doesn't surprise me. The girl spends most of the time trapped in The Box.

"Is there anything else to talk about?" I ask quietly. The woman seems to be able to reduce anybody to cowardice.

She raises her eyebrow. "That is all, I suppose. However, be warned. From both me and the other teenagers."

I stand up, pushing the chair in and walking out. The atmosphere stays thick, eyes burning into my skull until I close the door. Then, it feels like everything has been lifted off of me. Released, freedom.

"Hey Carlos," Jett says as he jogs up to me, out of breath. "I was wondering where you got too. Did she just rain on your parade?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Did you really just say that?"

"No..." Jett murmurs, before shaking his head. "Back to the point. I just wanna know, what the witch wanted? No doubt complaining about something.. Bitch has issues on a new level."

"She just wanted to know if I had settled in okay," I replied, beginning to walk. "Apparently, I need to stay away from Stephanie. She's a bad egg."

"It's not nice to call people eggs, Carlos," Jett smirked. "She just wants perfection, that's all. She won't be satisfied until you're under her thumb and completely perfect."

I nod, trying not to smile. It's hard to take Jett seriously sometimes. He has his moments of sanity and then flashes of insanity, just not as bad as James. But close enough.

"So where is everyone?"

"Where do you think? It's not like we have many places to go and hang out..." Jett laughs. "Recreational room. Just be warned, Dak is in there, no doubt being the prick that he was born to be."

"I'm not worried at all."

Jett frowns and it catches my attention. I look at him, noticing him purposely avoiding my gaze. That doesn't make me anymore comfortable...

"Jett. What?"

"Well.." Jett bites his bottom lip, before coming around. "I just heard around that Dak didn't like the way you spoke to him and that! Don't worry though! We'll have your back and protect you and stuff!"

I catch his words, pulling them into my mind to properly digest. So I've made an enemy? Just great.

"Oh, well, I work fast then..." I shrug. "Nothing I can't handle. I've done worse."

"I know," Jett smirks and nudges me. "You're a little badass!"

Smiling, we carry on walking down. But the words dance around my head, nothing making sense. How could I piss someone off so early? It's been a week and already, someone is gunning for me. Good thing I've got put away for assault. It kinda outweights a drug dealer.

* * *

My eyes find themselves tugging from my book, looking across the room at Logan, sitting innocent and reading his book like he normally did. He's just so cute, with the way he reads and uses his finger to trace the words. Sitting across the table from him is Kendall, once again, watching intently at Logan, as if he's worried that someone would swoop in and steal him away. Maybe Kendall likes Logan? The possibility is there.. Scaring everyone away with his threatening use of violence and fire.

Unless the psychoness is a wall to hide other things.

I don't know. Kendall confuses, scares and intrigues me all in one.

I hear small murmurs coming from the side, but I dare not look. Since finding out about Dak, I feel like a small child being bullied at school but the bigger, more dumber kid. James enters the room, giddy with excitement I can tell by the pearly white grin.

"You seem happy," I smile as James bounces onto the seat opposite me, rocking back and forth. "What's going on?"

He takes a moment to reply, still grinning. "Dak got in trouble! He got in big, big, big trouble!"

My eyebrows raise, and quickly, I close the book and place it on the table, leaning forward. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," James' grin gets even wide, I'm worried it won't return back to a normal smile. "Someone told on him for keeping some secret drugs in his room! He got in big trouble!"

So he got caught. My mind starts to spin, the many possibilities of who told on him. Clearly it must have been a Blue. James seems too childlike to do that, besides, he seems almost surprised in his happiness. Camille more than likely wouldn't, I don't know the other three, Kendall and Logan are good possibilities, but I doubt they would have said anything.

Jett or Stephanie. Both rose to the ocassion of taking on Dak and Marcus.

"Where is he now then?"

"Come, I'll show you, it's so funny!" James beams as he grabs my hand, yanking me up without a chance to say anything.

He pulls me out of the room, and for a split second, I can see Logan's eyes fall on me, a small, almost invisible smile playing on his lips. It makes my heart flutter and fly, contrasting to the feeling of reality keeping me grounded. But as his face disappears, it's replaced by Dak's confusing and sinister smile and it takes all my will to shake it away. I don't want him in my head, I want Logan. I want Logan more than anything at this very moment, yet, he keeps sneaking in.

Through all the confusion, I don't even catch on to where James drags me, until we stop in front of The Box. Except, we're not alone. Camille, Jett and Stephanie stand there, smirking at the metal door that conceals Dak as punishment.

"I brought him, I brought him!" James squeals.

Jett steps forward, banging his fist against the door. "Serves you right, you little bitch!"

It takes a moment to hear anything back. "Screw you, you're dead when I get out!"

Jett's smirk only increases as he turns to face us, Camille and Stephanie sporting similar faces. We begin to walk away, Dak's taunts and screaming slowly dying out the further we get away from him.

"Well done for saying something, Carlos," Stephanie grins. "About time someone told on him, the smug little prick. He thinks he's bad, and yet, he's just a simple idiot."

"Well done?" I reply, scrunching my eyebrows up. "I didn't say anything. I barely know the guy, I had no idea he had drugs hidden."

"You didn't?" Camille interjects.

I shake my head. "Nope."

"Well it wasn't us lot, so we just assumed it was you. A Red wouldn't turn on their own," Camille side-frowns. "That's extremely weird. Maybe it was one of the others, then?"

"Why would they do that, though?" Jett frowns. "They don't get involved with the politics compared to us."

Camille shrugs. "Beats me, but either way, he's gone for a few days. She won't let him out for a while, not now that he's broken the first, most important rule."

"Which is?"

"Re-committing your crime," Camille states with a sickly smile. "If you do anything to do with why you got put in here, bam, that's a good few days in The Box. Why do you think Stephanie spends so much time in there? She got arrested for being a theif and she still steals."

"Right," I reply cautiously. I think I get it. "So because Dak was arrested for drugs, and smuggling drugs, he'll get punished badly?"

"Precisely," Jett pats me on the back, causing me to stagger slightly. "That's why I gots to be careful with my alcohol."

"How do you lot even get the stuff in here? I mean, there's no visitors or anything.."

"You'd be surprised, Carlos," Jett smirks. "We aren't criminals for nothing. We all have our different ways to cheat the system."

Shame you didn't cheat it enough, otherwise, you could have avoided all of this and would still be free. Instead, you end up getting thrown in here to still do the thing that pleases you. Definitely the minds of people who aren't all that stable or innocent. But then, I can guess why for them. Stephanie has no family to go too, being in the foster system at seventeen years old. Jett's parents are forcing him to stay here, Camille's parents disowned her and James.. Well, he doesn't mention them so I'm guessing he doesn't care too much either.

But I need to get home for many reasons, but mainly, for Rico's sake.

* * *

I walk into the cafeteria, noticing that it's mainly packed with kids that I don't know, so clearly, I'm told not to mingle. Worse thing is, I have to sit alone. Camille is off with Dr. Philips, having something of a private chat. James is in his bedroom, bawling his eyes out over something Jett said but didn't mean so literal and Jett is banging down James' door, trying to apologise for being a dick with no filter on his mouth.

Stephanie.. I have no idea. I've learned that Stephanie has a tendency to disappear and then reappear out of the blue, like a magician. Jett says it's to do with her being a theif, Steph says it's because she has a brain compared to the drunk.

I slid my tray along, looking at the woman behind the counter with disgust. She responds the look, which only tempts me into spitting some sarcastic comment to her. But as she loads my plate with more damn tuna, I catch the attention of someone else. I look at the tray, follow the arms and then, my heart flutters.

Logan.

"Hey," Logan says quietly. "You look lonely."

"I feel lonely."

He laughs quietly, but it's enough to make my heart swell. "Well, I'll come keep you company. Looks like the Reds have control of this place so far. Hate to throw you into the lion pit on your own."

I don't even realise I'm smiling hard and ignoring the horrible woman, until Logan's eyes make contact with mine and everything slows down. He smiles, once more, biting on his lip ever so lightly and that seems to shot fire through my body at the mere thought of watching that happen day after day. He laughs lightly again, nudging me to move along. I do so, picking out our usual table that I always sit at with the others.

Surprisingly, Logan follows.

He places the tray down, taking a seat opposite me. Everything he does is so gentle and cute, it's hard to imagine him being a criminal of any sorts. Then again, when I think of that I think of James and clearly, you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. That could be a dangerous mistake indeed.

"Where's Kendall?

My mouth makes noises before I even realise. Oh fuck, stupid mouth.

Logan looks out, curiousity glossing his eyes as he looks at me, the orbs softening down to nothing but sparking once more as he shakes his head, strands of his hair falling in front of his pale forehead.

"He err... He's in his room. Technically, he's on lockdown..." Logan murmurs, stabbing some of the tuna and pasta.

"Lockdown?" That's new. "What's that?"

He laughs again, because seriously, my heart can't handle much more of it. "Well, when you do therapy or Dr. Philips calls you in, if you fail to meet her standards, you get lockdown. Locked in your room for a period of time. Well, you're supposed to be locked, but really, Gustavo just checks to make sure you're in the room every couple of minutes. We have no locks so..That and someone found his lighter."

I nod, trying to understand. But that's just like Dak and drugs. Arson was his crime, a lighter his weapon and yet, two different types of punishment.

"Is he on lockdown cause Dak's in The Box?"

"No," Logan shakes his head. "It's because he willingly gave it up to Dr. Philips. Dak tried to hide it, but for some reason, Kendall just handed it over when he got found out."

The words blur in my mind... Why would someone do that? Then, everything pieces together like a puzzle, and knowing Kendall's attitude, if not only slightly, I get it.

"He likes to piss her off..."

"Exactly," Logan smiles sadly. "Kendall has a habit of adding fuel to a non-existent fire. If he can't have real fire, he'd sure as hell create as much of one out of simple actions like giving them his lighter, just to see Dr. Philips blow up over the fact that he managed to get pass her security measurements."

I get it, though. It's not a full punishment, because technically, Kendall showed minor signs of wanting to change. Even if the woman is deluded enough to believe it. But he just stays in his room, and as long as bug-eyed ugly knows he's in there every few minutes, he's fine. No locks or small spaces, no bodyguard. Just a room and following a simple rule. Sounds a lot better, if I'm honest.

Before even realising, my jaw hurts from the giant grin. He's talking. Talking so freely and openly. He's finding no problem with stringing sentences together, just for me, whereas before, it was a battle. Bit by bit, Logan Mitchell is opening up to me. Even if he doesn't realise it or mean too. The masks that he hides behind are slowly cracking.

"Sounds like a maniac, definitely gotta be crazy to want to be around him."

Foot in mouth and I can tell. I look up, realising I could have made the wrong mistake but there's still the possibility that Logan didn't take my words to heart. My eyes are wide, mirroring Logan's. He looks sad, looks down to his food, stirs it around before getting up swiftly. His face drops, eyes full of shimmering tears and I would take in all his beautiful if I didn't realise I am such a fucking idiot.

"L-Logan, I-I-"

"It's fine," Logan murmurs quietly, head down. "It's fine, Carlos, honestly..."

Then with that last word, he brushes past the tables and out of the cafeteria, leaving his seat empty and a hole in my heart. It takes all of a few minutes of numbness to push me back to reality, even if the slightest of forms and I'm up on my feet, jogging as fast as I can in the direction Logan ran off too.

I don't know him too well, but something is certain and that's Logan feels safe in his bedroom. He's never mentioned it, but he does come across as the hermit kind of person who treats his bedroom like his bubble. As I spin around the corner, I almost knock straight into Kendall, rapping his knuckles against the door.

"Logan, for fuck sake, just move away from the door!"

I stop dead in my tracks, the only image in my mind being of my body burning. He told me to stay away from Logan. I didn't listen. I've upset Logan, now, so clearly the man is going to kill. He turns, sparks of fire in his eyes as he stares me down.

"You fucking did this, didn't you? You upset him!" Kendall howls, stalking towards me with clenched fists.

I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering a simple method to not blow. Don't blow it, Carlos, otherwise last chance gone.

_10...9...8...7..._

"Move out the fucking way Jett!"

I open an eye, slightly, noticing Jett with his hands on Kendall's shoulders, keeping him back from me. I can only be so grateful.

"Why would I want to do that? To let you hurt our good friend Carlos? A fellow Blue? You must be insane, Knight." Jett states calmly, if not with a smirk on his face.

Kendall's temper flares down quickly, but like a fire, there's still some burning ashes. "He fucking done something to Logan, Jett, a fellow Blue and all that crap."

"He probably didn't mean too," Jett smirks even wider. "Besides, you're supposed to be on lockdown right now, pretty boy, and Gustavo would be pretty pissed to see you out. I hear he's even found himself a bigger needle and we all know how the infamous Kendall Knight, arson extraordinaire, is scared of needles."

Kendall edges forward, gritted teeth, staring Jett down. But the blonde doesn't flinch at all.

"Screw you, Stetson."

"Oh I wish you would by now," Jett puckers his lips mockingly. "However, you need to be quick, not that I'm sure you won't have a problem with that."

Kendall's anger dies down almost completely at this point. His dark eyes return to their emerald green state, his jaw unclenched and fists unlocked. Jett managed to do that? Seriously? The same, idiotic blonde? "You're lucky that I don't hate you as much as some of the other people."

"If that's your way of telling me I'm your friend, I'll accept that," Jett wiggles his eyebrows. "But seriously, go and check on Logan and leave Carlos to me."

Kendall gives in, glaring at me one more time before walking away, relatively more passive than before. I look at Jett, who only laughs at my wide eyes as he slings an arm over my shoulder, leading me down the hallway I came. But that doesn't stop the heaviness in my heart for what happened to Logan.. How I fucked my chance up royally.

"Thank you." I murmur to Jett.

"You're lucky that the firecracker that likes me, otherwise, you would have been smoked, by dear boy. Now," Jett's wicked smile returns. "How about we sneak into my room and I pop the alcohol out, yeah?"

"Really?"

"You have a lot to learn here. My connections are never ending." Jett smirks one last time as he pushes me through his bedroom door, closing it behind him.

* * *

**KETT! I didn't plan it so soon, but after people kept mentioning they saw Kogan, I was like "Oh hell no, we need to sort this out!" so here we go, I cleaned it up a bit. There is Kogan, but strictly bromantic. As I mentioned, Kendall is severely protective of Logan for reasons untold. He no likey him in that way, I'm afraid.**

**Seriously debating about getting a beta, as well.. Noticing my grammar and such going dowwwnhill. If you're up to it and pretty much good at checking through for me, hit me up with a message! I kinda do need one.**

**But again, I'm unreliable. And indecisive. My life is amazing, right?**


	6. Blue Skies

**Major thanks to the people who reviewed. I love you all. Hugs for **_ZeldaLove Akira-Chan_, _ThisHendersonChick14_, _brittney_, _KEALY KAMES_, _OsnapitzTORi_, _CarlosZorro_, _Mr. President_, _xxhalestormxx_, _saltypancakes_, _Jarlosfan_, _She-Wolf971_, _Just Fetching_, _krehpeh_, _Car-the-awesome_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_, _Cookie Monster Giggles_, _nigelbtrlover24_ **and lastly,** _Aeroja_.

Thanks to all the people who alerted and favourited. I love you just as much! So many reviews. I love you guys!

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Six; Blue Skies.**

* * *

The white, puffy clouds roll so delicately over the blue sky, sun shining down on the dancing trees. It sucks, it really does. I just wanna be outside, enjoying the fresh air, not cooped up in here. It has its perks, sure, but it's starting to feel more like a prison compared to the correction facility that it is supposed to be. My hands mindlessly grip the iron bars, praying there was some way I could just rip them off and escape. Maybe I do want to go home. No, correction, I do want to go home. But then there's Logan and everything and now, I don't know which outweights the other. Just then, I hear someone knocking on my door, snapping me out of my daze.

Turning, I can see it's Jett, smiling bright and dark at the same time.

"Does the baby need his fresh air?" Jett teases, laughing when he registers my glare. "I see, you do. You know you can, though, right? Just downstairs. All you gotta do is sign out for it."

"You're kidding me? Dr. Philips never mentioned anything to me about that."

Jett laughs even louder, propping himself against the doorway. "Well, she is a sadist. I'm sure she gets off on your pain."

"Fuck you, Jett."

"That's Kendall's pleasure," Jett retorts with a wink. "Although, I'm sure he doesn't see the amusement like I do."

The mention of that stirs something inside of me. Jett did calm Kendall down pretty quickly. Like, really quickly. And Camille said that people avoided him because he was like a loose cannon and, ironically, like wildfire. Yet Jett, drunken frat boy Jett, licked the spark and put it out.

"What is up with you and Kendall, anyway?" I put it out there as we walk down the hallway.

"It's complicated," Jett smiles softly and straightaway, I can tell there's more to it. "He have this understanding. I don't annoy him and he doesn't annoy me. We stay away from each other, and I guess, you could say, we have a mutual respect for each other unlike anything."

"So you're crushing on him?"

"No!" Jett's eyes go wide. "I-I-I d-don't like K-Kendall! Ha, good one Carlos!"

But that doesn't deter me. I can tell he does, and I guess, that makes it more amusing. Looks like I'm not the only one who might have found love in a hopeless place. Looks like there are many possibilities and before I even realise it, more hidden questions just spill from my mouth.

"What was your life like, Jett? I mean, before being put in here."

Jett stops, looks at me and raises an eyebrow. Then, he sighs, laughing lightly to himself. "I was waiting for you to get curious. Most people do. Stephanie pulled it out of me within the first week of being here whereas James kinda just cried until I said something. You get the point," Jett begins to walk again, stuffing his hands. "My parents are massive socialites. Parties and functions and looks are everything to them. A child? That was only planned to make sure they had an heir to the family fortune. But what they forgot was a child needed love, something I never really got, you know?"

I nod, frowning.

"Basically, I was raised by an array of nannies and caregivers. After a while, I decided that heck, if they couldn't give me love, why should I try to reach their expectations?" Jett laughs bitterly. "Alcohol was the best way. Ruin the perfect image of a perfect life with an imperfect son. They saw it as betrayal and childish, I saw it as comeuppance."

"Basically, you rebelled?"

Jett laughs again, slamming on hand onto my shoulder, gesturing the area with his other hand. "And didn't I do a good job, no?"

He smiles, again, mask undone and freedom released. I guess, deep down, Jett isn't mentally screwed or anything. He seems fine, like, he's accepted it. He done it out of spite, and I guess, he's conquered his job by destroying his family's perfect name.

"So, outside we go?" Jett smiles as he reaches a desk and grips the pen, scribbling onto the piece of paper. I take a look around, noticing that I've never been down here before since arriving.

"I guess so."

The door slides open effortlessly, the sunlight brimming to the door's edge. For a moment, it's like a dream. I've always loved the outdoors compared to being inside. It's more refreshing and free. Jett pushes me slightly and I stumble outside, feet meeting concrete. My eyebrows crease as I look to the floor, realising my dream slowly shattering. It isn't really a garden, more like a prison courtyard. Concrete is spread out across the entire area, it's reasonably big, but no grass. Some wooden benches sit in the corner, chainlink fence towering up, barb wire topping the metal creation.

"And this is suppose to be outside? Looks even worse than the building."

"We are technically criminals after all, it's not all luxury and fun." Jett points out with a smirk.

"You're the one that treats it like a holiday."

"That's because I'm living life to the max. Don't hate, appreciate Carlos!"

He knocks me with his shoulder and in return, I punch him in the arm, warily watching the bodyguard stood in the corner, who looks ready to grab something when he sees me touch Jett. Seems everyone around here is just a bit touchy.

* * *

I lean back on my hands, looking around the courtyard. Jett got bored and walked away, saying something about hangovers and sunlight not being the best combination. My eyes glance around the area, noticing that there are a few teenagers whom I've deemed unimportant, considering there from the opposing group and that's forbidden, courtesy of the unspoken code of conduct. Then, curiosity sinks in. Why can't I speak to some of them?

Dak, their so-called 'leader', is still in The Box, Jett has disappeared, no other Blue is out here and Marcus, the little sidekick, is not here either. Just a few people who I have to live with and yet, avoid. Without even thinking, I've stood up, crossed the tarmac and now facing the unknown criminals. Once again, my body does things before even consulting my brain.

"Hi," I smile, catching the attention of the redhead boy I noticed right at the beginning, in the canteen. He looks terrified, for a moment, wide eyes. "I'm Carlos."

He doesn't speak. Just looks at me, eyes bugging out of his head. Finally, he opens his mouth and murmurs something.

"What was that?"

"Darwin.."

I smile, taking on a seat on the wooden bench next to him. "So, Darwin, how are you on this fine day?"

His gaze drops to his shoes and watching him, I can see his form stiffening. "I'm okay.."

"There's no reason to be shy or awkward or afraid or anything," I laugh the last bit, hoping to perk something up. Nothing. "I just wanna get to know you whilst I'm imprisoned here."

He finally turns around, grey eyes alarmed and his jaw opens and closes. But as I look closer, maybe even making the situation painstakingly awkward, I can see his eyes aren't even on me anymore. Instead, it's higher above my head. I turn, following the look, only to find Stephanie behind me. She doesn't say anything but her lips stay in a perfect line, eyebrows dropped. Fear sets in. I mean, have I broken a rule or something? What if they, like, outcast me?

"Hi Carlos, what are we up to here?" Stephanie smiles suspiciously. Her eyes fall on Darwin. "Darwin, nice to see you too."

"Hi Stephanie.." Darwin mutters, picking up his feet and running off like a small child.

"Well that was mean." I comment.

"Nothing mean about keeping the line a line, not blurring it. Don't get me wrong, Darwin is probably the nicest person in the douche of a 'family'," Stephanie looks at me, eyes darkening slightly. "But rules are rules, Carlos. You don't talk to them for a reason. Well, there isn't really a reason, but it's like high school. Status quo and all that crap."

"I just thought he seemed okay. Plus, no offense here, but it's kinda boring just sticking with a few people."

Stephanie's hand reaches her heart and she gasps mockingly. "I am heartbroken. But yeah, I get it, but no. Blues only. If you're bored with us, go talk to the other three that keep to themselves. Heck, play a game. Find the murderer or bank robber. They're out there, somewhere, out of us twenty."

"You're kidding?"

"Would I kid about such a thing?" Stephanie smirks. "We're not all petty criminals. Some are hardcore, you know. You think James is crazy, you haven't seem what some of the others are like when they get pissed. That's why we want you safe, you know? You're like our little puppy that we don't want to get kicked."

I laugh, licking my lips as I look at the sky. The clouds roll over so freely, yet down here, I'm trapped. And like Stephanie said, just waiting to be kicked. I hear some small footsteps, and before I know it, they're right beside me, a shadow creeping along the cement.

"What are you doing here?" Stephanie snarls.

I snap my head at Stephanie's voice, noticing Kendall standing there, arms crossed over his chest. "I came here to talk to Carlos so put the claws away, will you?"

"Like hell am I just gonna let you talk to Carlos, not after you've basically threatened his life with fire. He's our puppy and you aren't touching him."

Puppy? I almost laugh at the word, until I see Kendall's eyes fixated on me. But instead of blistering with fire and intense anger, like normal, they're reasonably cold and diluted. He doesn't look like a walking volcano, waiting to burst, he looked sedated and normal.

"No, it's okay Stephanie... Let him talk."

Stephanie grunts, standing up and swishing her hair over a shoulder. "Don't hurt my puppy."

As she walks away, Kendall sit downs, placing both of his hands on his knees and sitting back into the bench. "You seemed awfully confident when getting rid of her."

"Call me crazy, but I don't think you seem as horrifying today as normal."

"Good eye," Kendall laughs bitterly. "If you must know, I've been sent here, I didn't want to come."

"Sent?"

Kendall rolls his eyes. "By Logan, you idiot. For some reason, I don't understand why but... He wants me to apologise for the way I've treated you so far."

"Logan asked that, did he?" The disbelief in my voice is perfect for what I'm feeling.

"I couldn't believe it either, but apparently, I should be a bit more warm to you, you know, like a welcoming fire not an inferno."

"You use fire phrases a lot, I've noticed that."

"Sue me," Kendall shrugs his shoulders. "I'm an arsonist, it's what I do. But back to the point. I'm sorry, Puppy, okay?"

Seems the nickname has caught on quickly, even though it confuses me. But it doesn't matter. For once, I'd rather accept Kendall being borderline normal with me, rather than threatening to burn my face off with a match. I look at him, noticing the cold eyes of the boy fall to his lap, almost, almost innocently. For a split second, I only see vulnerability.

"Don't worry, it's fine, you were looking out for Logan. I think that's sweet of you, caring so much for your friend."

"You don't get it," Kendall laughs bitterly again, clenching his fists. "I have to be protective of Logan. It's needed."

It takes all my courage and bravado to muster up enough balls to say it, but I do. "Why are you so protective of Logan?"

The mask that falls, slips back on with blinding speed and Kendall stands up, cheeks flushed with annoyance and eyes ablaze. With clenched fists, Kendall stares me down, jawline tight. My body quickly prepares itself for a beating that I know will happen right now.

"For many reasons you don't need to know. Now, I suggest you be more fucking careful in the future, got it? Next time, when I come find you, it won't be to apologise."

"Kendall, I'm s-"

"No, screw you," Kendall points his finger at me, the index shaking. "You, just, screw you!"

With the last word, Kendall storms out from the courtyard, some of the Reds looking on with curious eyes. I suddenly feel the heat clawing at my neck, eyes boring into my skull. Taking deep breaths, I calm myself down. Need to calm down. Need to stay neutral, need to go home.

"Carlos?"

I snap my head to the side, my breath becoming ragged and hitched. Logan's stood there, playing with his thumbs, a soft smile playing on his lips. Without even thinking, I'm on my feet, wrapping my arms around Logan's body, head cocked into his neck, breathing hard. I need to calm down. I need to think happy thoughts. Mom used to always do this when I felt like I was going to explode. Slowly and carefully, Logan responds, tentatively slipping his own arms around me, palming a circle on my back.

"I take it your sorry?" Logan whispers.

"More than you'll ever know," I breath, trying my hardest to calm down. "I'm so so sorry."

* * *

"So your anger problems are that bad, huh?" Logan asks.

I slowly bow my head, looking at the bleached wooden floor on the hallway. "I guess so..."

He doesnt respond and when I look up, I can see his own eyes staring at the ceiling as we walk. For a moment, I can a flicker of fire in his eyes, slowly dying as he sighs. His eyes are like, a portal to his mind or something from a movie. He's thinking, thinking real hard, cogs churning.

"You have questions, I can tell," I laugh lightly, but my breathing is broken. "You can ask anything. I trust you enough, Logan."

Logan shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. "You don't have to tell me your personal life, Carlos... I don't want to be nosy..."

"I'm giving you permission."

"You're persistant, right?" Logan smiles. He actually smiles and I can feel the fireworks in my body rocketing.

With the tension eased, I can't stop the words leaving my mouth and as Logan looks at me with a puzzled expression, do I realise I've actually said something once again, body moving without telling me.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry for what I said... I-I didn't mean for you to take it to heart." It comes out as a mere whisper.

Logan softly smiles again, cheeks gaining colour. "Don't be, it's fine."

"I don't think you're crazy and clearly... Deep down... I think Kendall cares a lot for you."

"We've got a lot of history together." Logan states quietly.

I leave it at that. As much as I wanna know everything and anything about Logan and his relationship with Kendall, I don't want to push. It seems everytime I take a step forward, I jump back two and that's not exactly the greatest thing. I need to be more careful, until at least I can rip away Logan's shell for good. We turn the other corner, noticing a group of teens in the distance. Logan stops and when I turn around, I can see he's frozen, doe-like eyes wide on his face.

"Logan, what's wrong?" I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He doesn't say anything and when I turn around, the group begins to walk towards us. When it becomes clearer, I can see Marcus, Dak's little bitch.

"Well, well, well," Marcus sneers. "I can see we have ourselves some Blues. Do you have any idea why Dak got put in The Box?"

On instinct, I'm standing in front of Logan, pushing the brunette behind me like a lion protecting a cub. On either side of Marcus is two other boys I've never taken much notice of, but I've seem them slightly around to know they're Reds. One was even in the courtyard when Kendall erupted on me.

"I have no idea," I state with a smile. "Do you wanna explain why your 'leader' is an idiot?"

Marcus laughs at that. "Our 'leader' is fearless, if you must know. He can handle anything."

"That explains why he has you as his little bitch. Someone weak to make himself look better. Common sense, really."

"You think you're bad? You're in the wrong place, little boy," Marcus spits. "Dak's out now and guess who is on the top of his list? You. You picked the wrong enemy."

Anger bubbles inside, but quickly, Logan catches on, slipping his hand carefully into mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. It calms me instantly. He's like a drug, a sedative, calming me down when my emotions get the better of me easily. I keep him behind me, though. Logan can't get hurt. I couldn't live with myself if it happened.

"So Dak's out? Where is he, then?"

"Dr. Philips called him for a talk," Marcus eyes me, followed by Logan. "But Logan would know all about that, wouldn't he?"

I look at Logan carefully, who instantly shudders against the gaze from both me and Marcus. My mind clouds and it takes a moment to collect everything, put it together and sort it all out. Then it makes sense. Logan was the one who told on Dak and his drugs. He was the snitch. That makes this situation even harder. I edge him closer away from Marcus and goons, fear taking over my body. They want Logan, not me. They wanna hurt him.

"Stay the fuck away from us," I say through gritted teeth. "I will kick your ass so hard, you'll never be able to feel it ever again."

"Tough words from a not-so-tough boy," Marcus pauses, smiles, steps forward and inch more and points. "Don-"

He doesn't get the chance to speak. On instinct, through fear and caring and wanting to protect a fragile boy, my hand flies out in a fist, connecting with Marcus' jaw.

"I said, stay the fuck away from us!"

"You'll regret that, Carlos. You'll regret that!" Marcus yells, spitting a wad of blood to the floor as him and his goons take off down the hallway they came from.

Fear sets in properly. I can feel the sweat slicking and sliding between mine and Logan's hands, and as I turn around, I can almost see the tears brimming the corner of his lovely eyes. The grip on my hand tightens, his body stiff and red colouring his pale flesh. He's scared, scared beyond his own control.

"L-Logan?"

I can hear his ragged and chopped breath. He keeps his grip, staring at something in the distance behind me but I know there is nothing there. Then it's my turn to be shocked. He looks at me, allows a few tears to slide down his face and smiles, a sad but soft, bright but dull smile. The smile turns into a frown, wrinkled lines around his lips and he darts forward, realising his grip and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, crying into my clothing. He just cries.

My heart flips and spins, lurches and flutters and my hand, idly, begins to run through his hair.

In that moment, I know I must do whatever I can to protect him. I wanna go home but I don't wanna leave Logan. He needs me and I'd be lying if I said I didn't need him.

* * *

**So like, I had to do this. I just had to do some Cargan progress and whatnot. I always wanted to get Jett's background out there because it's an important part to the storyline. Incredibly, wonderfully important. **

**Bit more about Kendall was needed, as well. He'll be developed more, don't worry. He's not so bad as people might think.**

**Meet Darwin! He's adorable. Honestly.**

**I have decided to take away the question part at the bottom, simply because I get like, really stuck on what to ask you guys. It sucks. Sorry, plus people who know me know that I get picky with my layout and such, so things might be changing. Be warned, I'm sorry!**


	7. Spin The Bottle

**Another huge thank you to the amazing people that reviewed. You guys keep me going, honestly, I love each and everyone of you. Hugs for **_laetus-mentis_, _ZeldaLove Akira-Chan_, _KEALY KAMES_, _brittney_, _OsnapitzT0Ri_, _krehpeh_, _Mr. President 64_, _Guest_, _nigelbtrlover24_, _Cookie Monster Giggles_, _xxBadDreamxx_, _MusicSoundsBetterWithLPH_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_, _LoneWolfie_, _Guest #2_, _Carganfan_, _ErlCatLos33_ **and the amazing,** _Aeroja_.

The favourites and alerts were massively appreciated! I apologize now, rather than at the end, for the delay. My computer crashed and I lost a lot of files, so for those who were expecting _Struck By Thunder_ to be updated, I'm sorry, the chapter I was working on has vanished and I want to cry. So, when I'm done feeling sad, I shall get back to it!

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Seven; Spin The Bottle.**

* * *

The sound of the shower pulsating against the tiles wake me up, slowly, but I end up pulling myself from my sleep. Sunlight pierces through the bars, stabbing the ground. I use my fists to rub at my eyes, yawning, wondering what the hell went down yesterday. Dak is after me. Logan snitched on Dak, I punched Marcus and now, I'm pretty sure I'm the main target for every single Red out there. The last thing I remember is Logan crying, breaking down in my arms.

He didn't say anything and I guess I didn't expect him too.

It takes all but a second to notice I'm not in my room... The first, obvious clue being that there is a white bookcase in the corner, lined with colourful books. Anxiety sets in, and as I look at my clothes, I realise they're still on. Yet, I don't remember too much of last night. When Logan was crying, we walked back to his room. I sat him down, we talked quietly and not that long, but he soon fell asleep and then, yeah, I guess I did too.

The shower tap stops, followed by some noise before the door opens wide. Logan stands there, towel wrapped around his waist, crystalline droplets rolling along his porcelain skin, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of the sun, making every dimple and feature more exposed.

"Carlos?"

I snap out my daze, looking up at Logan, who shifts awkwardly. "Sorry... Yeah, I err, got kinda confused where I ended up, that's all."

Logan laughs lightly, sending my heart into flutters whilst my eyes just want to stay glued on Logan's body and nothing more. It's beautiful, and hate to sound poetic, but like a piece of art. Smooth, silky skin that's no doubt velvet soft.

"No worries," Logan softly smiles. "I didn't expect you to stay all night... Thought maybe you'd go at some point."

Why would he think that? "Course not."

His small smile breaks out into an impossible grin. "T-Thanks for yesterday, by the way, I-I don't know what happened."

Logan sits on the edge of his bed, and instantly, I have to fight back the urge just to leap across and take him into my arms one more time. I know Stephanie referred to me being the puppy, but really, I want nothing more than to just smother Logan with every bit of happiness I could provide in such a depressing, white environment. My hand creeps across the bed, without me really thinking, fingers brushing against his hand.

"Don't mention it, Logan, I'm here if you need me. Believe it or not, but I want to help you in any way I can."

His brown eyes connect with mine, and for a moment, I can only see sadness. Like he's not used to this kind of thing happening to him very often. My mind clouds, but one thing is kinda clear and that's maybe, just maybe, Logan isn't used to someone caring for him so much. Maybe Kendall is the closest thing he's had to a friend, and frankly, that's not that impressive, best friend being a pyromaniac.

Logan smirks, looking down at his hand, my fingers still lingering there. "You know, you can let go, Carlos, I'm not going to break down again."

"Maybe I don't want too."

The words escape my mouth without my brain processing it. I really have a problem when it comes to that. I feel like bringing my hand back and dashing out the room. I can only imagine the pain that is no doubt swamping his eyes, tears ready to burst, Kendall ready to flay me alive. But instead, Logan looks up and smiles with a chuckle, pulling back his hand and standing up. He doesn't say anything, but the warmth of his face says a lot as he walks back into the bathroom with a pile of clothes wrapped in his arms, closing the door behind him.

Did that just happen? For once, my mind done something right. I actually done something right.

I get up, stretching my limbs until I hear the click, before creeping to the door. Hopefully, I can get back before anyone sees me. I have no idea if Dr. Philips had rules on curfew or staying in each others rooms. Either way, I don't really care because with Logan, I'm forward.

* * *

"I'm bored!"

I fight the urge to laugh at Jett's attitude, which I've learned is on par with James'. Camille rolls her eyes. "Trust you to get bored, Jett, how about you go and do some work or something?"

Jett huffs, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I'd rather stay bored thanks."

"We could play a game or something?" I suggest.

"Game!" James begins to bounce up and down on his seat, Camille attempting to calm his excitement down as others in the recreational room begin to stare. "I want to play a game!"

I smile, looking round the room for something to actually play. Another thing I've learned about this place is they don't like to amuse us. We have nothing to really wet our appetites in entertainment. Magazines and books, sure, but I've read nearly all of them and I don't even enjoy reading as much as people like Camille or Logan. Besides that, the courtyard is okay, but there's nothing out there either. My eyes catch Stephanie waltzing into the room, devious smile planted on her face.

"Did I hear Puppy mention something about a game we're going to play?" Stephanie winks.

Camille smiles. "Yeah, apparently, we have ourselves a thinker."

Stephanie takes a seat between me and Jett, patting on his knee. "Do you have any idea of what to play?"

Jett shakes his head before slowly, he stops and begins to nod. "Actually, yeah, I do have an idea. Stephanie, you know you're like, a thief extraordinaire?"

Stephanie raises her eyebrow. "Yeah."

I catch on before anyone else. I know exactly what's been going on in Jett's mind. Druken frat boy, sure, but he's more than that. He's got a softer side, which he shows to Kendall, as well as a more wicked side that is both quick and cunning when it comes to these things.

"Well, how about you get us a bottle from the canteen?" Jett smirks. "I feel like playing spin the bottle."

Stephanie grins, standing back up and slapping her hands together. "Right, okay, I'm on it. Lets make it good, though, yeah? Someone go grab Kendall, Logan and the rest of the Blues. I want a full house."

With that last word, Stephanie runs off, a skip in her step in sync as Jett rises.

"Carlos, care to escort me to find the troublemakers and bring them here?" Jett lowers his hand like a gentleman, expecting me to take it. Instead, I swat at his hand, laughing. "Fiesty!"

"Maybe we should go somewhere else besides here," Camille points out. "After all, people can walk in at anytime and when they see the bottle and then Carlos, no offence, they are going to flip and lockdown all of us."

Jett ponders the thought for a moment.

"We can go to my room or something! Gustavo never bothers me, since I'm so perfect and everything."

"Far from perfect, Jett."

"Tomatoes, potatoes," Jett waves my comment away with a laugh. "Now, Puppy, heel! Lets go!"

And despite hating the nickname, I rise, passing a confused look at Camille and James as I follow Jett out, looking for the others in question, yet all I can think about is Logan. I mean, after I left his room, I haven't really seen him except when I saw Kendall looking pretty annoyed and conflicted as he interrogated him. And now, spin the bottle? Spells trouble.

* * *

"So, I'm going to state the obvious," Jett smiles as we stop outside Logan's room. "Kendall is no doubt going to be in there. Logan, obviously is. I'll take Kendall, you take Logan. I'm sure with a mixture of our class and charm, we can persuade them to join!"

"Then that leaves the others, right?"

Jett pauses for a moment, scrunching his eyebrows. "I guess we could get them... But trust me, they aren't exactly the soul of a party. Kyle is okay, I suppose, so are the girls. But none of them know how to enjoy themselves like us."

I nod, watching Jett tap on the door lightly, before opening the door, not waiting for a response. He tends to not know the bounds of privacy.

"Hello fellas!" Jett beams, entering the room, me following him like a god damn puppy. Seriously, I guess the nickname works.

Logan is sat on the floor, reading a book, and when he looks up, I can see the trace of a warm smile on his face, lighting up at seeing me and Jett. I can't fight back the smile that takes onto my face, and even if Kendall is in the room, Jett has enough sexual tension to throw his way to knock his balance off. Kendall sits up on the bed, looking at Jett.

"What do you want, Stetson?"

Jett smirks. "Well, my dear Kendall, we are going to play a game. We were wondering whether you want to join? That is if you lose the mouth. Until it's attached to mine."

I can see the faint blush crawl onto his pale face, as he ducks his head before looking back up, jaw clenched. "I've changed my mind. I hate your guts."

"Even better," Jett smiles. "Now, come on, it'll be fun and frankly, if Dak is going around being just a downright dick, we need to band together."

Looking at Logan, I can see the uncertainty. No-one knows, though. I have no idea if Logan even trusts me to hold onto that secret. I haven't said anything, though, I wouldn't dare. If I can keep it like this, just protect Logan, then I'll be okay. But the obvious is out that Dak wants war against Blues. So, as twisted and conceited Jett can be, he has a point that just so happens to have a lot of strings attached that he just so happens to love.

Kendall grumbles as he stands up. "Logan, are you coming?"

Logan nods, standing up. "I just err... I wanna go get ready and stuff. I'll walk with Carlos, if he doesn't mind waiting?"

Of course I don't. "Sure."

Jett smiles and gives a wink to me carefully, walking out just a bit in front of Jett. I can see Jett attempt, possibly in a joking manner, to grab Kendall's hand, but he swipes it away angrily. But something about it tells me that maybe, possibly, Kendall feels the same. I look over at Logan, who smiles softly.

"I know I've already thanked you for staying last night... But, I just, I wanted to make sure that you knew it meant a lot to me." Logan smiles.

My heart flutters as I step forward, accompanied by Logan doing the same. He drops the book to his chest, hugging it protectively. "Of course I knew it meant a lot. Logan, I'm here if you need me, you know? It seems weird and everything, I'll admit that. But... I don't know, if you need someone besides Kendall, then choose me. I'm only down the hall, obviously."

Logan laughs at that. "Thanks. I just... I can't tell anyone else."

"Can I... Can I ask why you snitched on Dak?"

"I don't want to talk about it really..." Logan frowns. "Just know I had many reasons."

I don't want to push him, seeing as Logan is quite vulnerable and fragile and well, I'm not doing the one step forward, two steps back thing again. I'm making progress, slowly but surely, but it's going up, not down.

"Sure, do you err, do you want to go then?"

Logan smiles, dropping his book on his bed before walking past, his shoulder brushing against mine. It send a shiver through my spine, making my whole body tingle. He turns and flashes a mischevious smile, which doesn't help the sexual tension in the room that Jett and Kendall created. Then, it crosses my mind that possibly, Logan purposely knocked against me. Purposely made sure he touched me to create the spark.

Well, it definitely worked.

* * *

I can't tell whether the tension is thick or awkward, but either way, I'm sat here, looking at my hands resting in my lap. Every now and then, I look up, my eyes wander to Logan, sat opposite me in the circle we've created on the floor of Jett's bedroom. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, before he looks down and everytime, I can see the faint dust of a pink blush skimming his face and really, that does nothing to my grin.

Soon, the door swings open and my eyes jerk up, Stephanie standing in the doorway, grinning wildly.

"I got the bottle," Stephanie wiggles the item in the air. "Didn't take much, really. Guess they've gotten use to me stealing things, since they just left it out on the side."

"Well done you." Kendall snides.

I can see Camille rolling her eyes, sitting next to me, not really looking interested. Next to her is James, followed by Jett, then Logan and Kendall, leaving a gap between me and the arsonist for the kleptomaniac. What a great bunch we actually are.

"No need to be annoyed, Kendork," Jett smirks. "You'll be kissing me in a few seconds, just patience."

"I wouldn't want to kiss you if you were the last thing on the planet." Kendall responds.

Jett smiles, shaking his head. "You say that now... But when it happens, it's me or a dog, and trust me, I'm a better kisser."

Camille's head shoots up, grin on her face. "How would you know you're a better kisser than a dog, Jett? Something to tell us?"

"No," Jett laughs, waving his hand. "Being who I am, I meet interesting people who have had interesting experiences in life."

"Being who you are... Being a dickhead means you have friends?" Kendall pipes up.

Jett just rolls his eyes, looking at Stephanie and smiling, wiggling his finger to pull her over. She skips across the wooden floor, plopping the plastic bottle in the middle, before sitting down. Kendall doesn't look too impressed, moving just a little bit close towards Logan protectively.

"Right, so, who wants to go first then?" Stephanie smiles.

I don't like this idea. I don't kiss girls, which narrows it down to four and frankly, the only person I want to kiss is Logan, but then there's Kendall right next to him and really, I want to keep my lips so I can kiss Logan in the future. When no-one responds, including James whose decided to jump down into his sad zone, for once with no apparent reason, Stephanie grunts before thrusting the bottle into Logan's direction.

"Spin." Stephanie commands.

Logan blinks a couple of times, soft eyelashes brushing over his eyes, before looking up at Stephanie. "I don't want to go first."

"Give it here," Kendall sighs. "I'll do it then."

With a flick of his wrist, the bottle spins and for that moment, I can almost see the calculating look in Kendall's eyes. He wants it to land on Jett, I just know it. Instead, the neck jerks itself at Camille, who surprisingly, doesn't look too happy, followed by James' looking up, worry smothering his eyes.

"No."

"Cam, it's a game, just a bit of fun," Jett lightly smiles, but when he notices Camille's stern face that makes me want to laugh, he sighs. "We need to come up with something in case you don't want to kiss said person."

"How about... Taking our clothes off?" Stephanie suggests.

"How about just sucking it up and playing the game?" Kendall moans as he leans across the gap, pulling Camille into a quick peck, which Camille responds by mock throwing up.

Over my time here, I've learned that despite being witty and pretty smart, Camille is also very depressive. Like, I can't explain it. She switches from quick retorts and wit, to just simply rolling her eyes and waving things off. Kendall sits back, smiling, before pushing the bottle over to Camille, who grabs it and slams it into the middle, ending with a delicate flick.

It goes on for a while, everyone staying reasonably quiet, spinning a bottle and then kissing that fateful person. All night, the cards never done me anything good. I kissed Camille and Stephanie, even Jett, though he tried to stick his tongue in my mouth, but that was it. Jett and Kendall didn't get to kiss, because clearly, fate didn't like Jett either. It landed on Logan and when that happened, I couldn't fight the pang of jealousy in my heart.

Before I know it, the bottle is pushed into my direction, Jett smiling.

"You haven't had a go for ages. Go on, spin." Jett winks.

Taking the neck into my hand and fighting back a sigh, I flick my wrist, watching the plastic bottle spin. Everything seems to happen in slow motion, after that. It goes a bit faster before stopping, red bottle cap pointing accusingly at Logan. A shiver runs up my spine, and from the corner of my eyes, I can see Kendall's downright evil stare. With my heart fluttering, I lean across the gap, trying to keep a good poker face. Our faces get even closer, his breath tracing my skin, before our lips softly meet.

It's cliche, but for me, I did see fireworks. Colours and pops, whizzes and bangs, rainbow sparks flying down to the ground, painting against the black sky. I take a moment to remember the taste of his lips. Watermelon, which is strange, because I hate watermelon but on Logan it tastes like the best fucking thing in the world.

Our lips part with a soft pop, everything suddenly seeming so blurred and hazy.

The first thing I see is a ghost of a smile on Logan's face, a twinkle in his eyes and the soft, distinct smell of the non-existant watermelon.

Then, it changes and the door bursts open. Gustavo storms in, white overalls shaking, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt. I take my time to breathe, to remember not to lash out and punch the man square in the jaw, but it takes a lot of patience and control and the man just isn't budging.

As I'm hauled to my feet, I notice Dr. Philips there, red hair shining.

"I hear you've broke the rules, Mr. Garcia," Dr. Philips frowns. "I guess the bad eggs just got to you. Such a pity. Gustavo, take him to The Box."

I struggle in the man's iron grip, but soon enough, I'm being dragged out into the hallway, noticing the terrified and wide expressions of everyone back in the room. Then, I watch his fingers dip into his pocket, a needle being pulled forth and a pinch in my upper arm. Darkness swamps the light, tugging in from the corners, making me see stars. I feel weightless. Like gravity is pulling me around.

Everything is so blurred.

I hear a door open, metal hinges rattle, before I'm thrown onto hard, wooden floor. I see Gustavo, towering in the doorway, bug-eyed glasses standing out.

"I was waiting for this day... Enjoy your time, dog."

The door slams and darkness takes over. My eyelids close, pain stemming from my arm and into my body as my senses shut down for sleep, the last smell being that of the damn, non-existant watermelon.

* * *

**This is where my story starts to take a more darker, drastic turn of events. The major plot will start to play soon, as well as many sub-plots I've created, character development and more importantly, Kendall and Logan's pasts, which I know is eating you all up haha. ;)**

**For now, enjoy the cute Cargan kiss!  
**

**Kett is, however, a lot more slower than the Cargan. After all, Carlos and Logan click, whereas Jett and Kendall clash. Two different types of romance going on. :D**

**Whilst it will get darker, and things will come to light, I plan to make the Cargan the cutest I have ever done. Not so much physical, but the emotional kind. I haven't tried it to much without one being dead, but, I shall try! I think it would suit well. It's true what they say. If you bug me, I do write a lot faster!**


	8. The Plan

**Just wanna give you guys a huge hug for everything, but particularly, for reviewing the last chapter. Big hugs for **_brittney_, _nigelbtrlover24_, _KEALY KAMES_, _krehpeh_, _Cookie Monster Giggles_, _LoneWolfie_, _ZeldaLove Akira-Chan_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_, _OsnapitzT0Ri_, _J_, _Miss-Invisible-Heartbreak_, _rosebud_ **and the ever charming**, _Aeroja_.

Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you and kisses to _Miss-Invisible-Heartbreak_, for all her reviews on every chapter. Such a sweetheart.

And lastly, I want to dedicate this chapter to the wonderful _LoneWolfie_, just because to me, she deserves it for being incredibly amazing.

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Eight; The Plan.**

* * *

Everything just feels numb. I had no idea what to expect, the drug that Gustavo stabs into your arm, because I never wanted to be in this position. I've never been too keen on small spaces. I'm not claustrophobic, well not entirely, but fuck... This place is awful. Stephanie always describes it like being trapped in a room, whilst being trapped in a dream. You're surrounded by darkness, nothing else, but the drug... It keeps hazing you in and out of a place where nothing seems real, but nothing seems unreal.

By the time my eyelids peel open, I'm met with nothing but pitch black. Everything feels slightly heavier. Like someone has filled me with bricks. I push back, getting up onto my elbow, and then onto my knees. I can practically feel the blood pounding behind my eyes. Before I know it, I'm on my feet, rushing to what I assume must be a wall, pounding my fists against it.

"Let me out!" I scream, but to no avail.

Then, almost creepily, a light appears at the bottom of what I guess is the door. A tiny, thin stream of light stabs into the room, illuminating just a few metres in front.

"Carlos?"

The voice. The soft, tender but ragged voice. Logan.

"Logan?" I reply, choked. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Logan whispers against the door. "I-I just came to check on you... See if you were okay."

That brings a smile to my face. Also does, really. Just the mere thought that Logan cares even the slightest... That's worth all of these feelings and more. I follow the light, sitting down on the floor, placing my hand against the ice cold steel.

"You didn't have to," I smile sadly, not that Logan would be able to see it. "I mean, I kinda deserve it, really."

Then, he doesn't say anything. It's all quiet. The silence drags on for what seems like hours, until finally, his whisper has reduced even more.

"It's my fault."

My heart sinks, a pain I've rarely ever felt before swallowing me whole. The same pain I felt for leaving Rico. The same pain for my actions, for what I done. To tear down this door, to grab Logan and just kiss him. To kiss him until every breath in my body is pained and hardened. Until I can't feel anything but the taste of watermelon smothering every sense in my body. Yet, his words confuse me. It was his fault I'm in here? But Dr. Philips didn't even really mention why I got shoved in here. She only said I broke the rules, which as far as I know, I didn't.

"It has nothing to do with you, Logan," I coo, hopefully trying to cheer him up. "Honestly. I've just pissed the witch off somehow and clearly, this is the best punishment she could give me."

"You don't understand." Logan mutters back.

"No, I really don't," I frown. "Logan, why do you think it's your fault?"

The silence stretches again, which doesn't stop my worry.

"You wouldn't understand..." Logan says. "Someone snitched on you. Like I did with Dak."

The puzzle pieces collect together a lot quicker than they used too. It makes sense, but again, Logan is keeping something and that is something I'm scared of asking. If I do, there is the possibility of pushing him away... As well as Kendall, of course. Adoring, psychopathic, pyromaniac Kendall.

"Then tell me why you snitched on Dak," I say, trying to make it sound softer. "Since it's obvious that he was the one that snitched on me for... Something."

"For you."

As quick as it sank, my heart rises. It swells, pops and sizzles in butterflies. "What do you mean?"

I can hear his faint, soft and sweet laugh breaking through the cold barrier that seperates us. "I told on Dak for you... He's, he's not a nice person, Carlos. And I just knew what would happen."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Then, I quickly shut it, realising that the best I could do would be to giggle at Logan's nice gesture and kindness and really, that would make me seem incredibly stupid. Can't push him away. I cannot push him away. No more one step forward, two steps back.

"You didn't have to," I offer. "I can handle Dak. Don't forget, Logie, I'm in here for assault. Dak's in here for drugs. The odds are in my favour!"

His laugh bubbles again. My heart swells again. Honestly, this boy could kill me at some point with his laugh. That sweet, pure laugh that seems full of innocence. Yet, innocence that done something criminal. That, somehow, ended up being locked in a facility that seems corrupt as fuck.

"I know I should't have said anything," Logan offers. "But I just thought... I thought you didn't deserve it. Carlos, I can't stay longer... Gustavo will be around to check on you soon. I'll see you when you're free."

"Wait for me?" I joke, realising my mouth runs before my head can think.

"Obviously," Logan laughs, once again. "I'll see you soon."

Then, I hear the small patter of feet walking away, the light tracing back from the door until finally, darkness developes once more and smothers me. I instantly can feel my heart pounding, thudding, hurting. I close my eyes, deciding that maybe, just maybe, thinking about it isn't the best thing to do. Soon, sleep catches me in it's net and drags me under.

* * *

"Get up, dog."

The gruff voice alerts me enough to wake up, and surprisingly, the first thing I see besides the stabs on fresh light, is the bug-eyed glasses and large belly. Gustavo obviously has come to collect me from my solitude.

"I said, get up."

"You know," I start dryly. "Respect and manners don't cost a thing. Not that you could afford it, anyway."

Gustavo smirks, plunging his hand into his pocket and pulling forth, once again, the large needle full of painstaking liquid. "You can always have another shot with that mouth of yours."

"I think Dak would prefer it," I push my own smirk on, not backing down to the man double my size. "After all, being the druggie that he is. I'm sure he sees it as a treat rather than a punishment."

With that, Gustavo retreats his needle, before walking away, ushering me out the door before locking it. Then, caught magically, he disappears. Just poofs out of thin air. Shaking my head, I turn around, only to be smothered in a hug by what I presume is Jett.

"You're free," Jett grins when he pulls away. "I can't believe you got locked up. Dude, that's hardcore."

I laugh, punching him on the shoulder. "More hardcore than you?"

"We're hardcore in different sense," Jett smiles wickedly. "Though, you might give Stephanie a run for her money."

"I don't think Dr. Philips hates me as much as she seems to hate Steph," I reply, as we walk down the hallway. "I mean, the woman has it in for Steph. And now, she might have it in for me. I don't even know what Dak said to get me locked up. I mean, I haven't broken any rules, have I?"

Jett takes a moment to reply, which worries me, but when he does, I feel the relief. "Could be the bottle? Maybe he blamed it on you rather than Steph."

"Too minor, I mean, for stealing a bottle? No. It has to be something that only I would know. Or at least, something that Dak found out."

"Have you broke the rules?" Jett raises an eyebrow. "I mean, that you know have. If you even know the rules. You know what, go talk to Stephanie. She knows them back to front, since it's her mission to break each one everyday."

I nod as Jett leads me down to the rec room, which is pretty empty, albeit a few kids. Camille, Stephanie and James are sat at the couches, looking at each other and whispering quietly, seeing as Darwin is on the other side of the room, at the table that Logan used to occupy, reading a book in an eerie fashion that resembles Logan. Quickly, as I approach, I can see James bouncing up and down in his seat, excited.

"You're back!" James cheers loudly. "You survived the bad room!"

"I did indeed," I laugh, waving the comment off as I sit down. "I'm just confused, that's all. Which is why I wanted to speak to Stephanie."

Stephanie raises her thin eyebrows, before smiling wickedly and then flashing a grin. "Funny coincedence, we wanted to speak to you, also."

That catches my attention, because well, I didn't expect it. Never saw it coming. I sit forward, propping my elbows on my knees, listening carefully as Camille and Stephanie both move forward in sync, like robotic twins.

"Well, we were thinking of something." Stephanie starts with a smile.

"A big something," Camille adds. "It started when we were thinking about why would Dak snitch on you."

"We didn't understand it at first," Stephanie admits with a frown. "It really pisses me off for not knowing why, but that much is obvious. He basically bragged about it. But then, Camille had a theory."

"It's nothing great, though, just a theory," Camille adds quickly. "We think Dak might have wanted revenge against you for something."

"For snitching on him? But it wasn't me."

"That's true," Jett quips in. "There is no proof and really, I believe Carlos. I still think it was Kendall, maybe even Logan."

They don't even understand how right they are with that.

"Couldn't have been," Camille smirks. "We know for a fact that as psycho as Kendall is, he would never get involved in the politics."

As the three of them talk, I look at James, who looks completely composed. Something that I've learned isn't normal. I follow his eyes, noticing the figure in the doorway. It takes a second to register who, though. Dark hair, darker eyes, well-built and an aura that screams trouble. Dak. Instantly, the group quiets, though Jett doesn't back down. Never does, actually.

"Well, well, well," Dak sneers, walking in followed by Marcus, who glares at me. "I see you finally got released, Carlos."

"Yeah, few minutes ago actually."

"Impressive, I didn't think you had it in you, to go and be so rebellious, if only I didn't have to snitch on you," Dak gets closer, focusing his eyes on Jett. "Calm down, Stetson, someone should learn their place."

"I have no idea why you think you're the shit, Zevon," Jett glares, eyes sparking. "Because you're nothing but a lowly drug dealer, popping your pills and shooting your needles."

"And you're nothing more than a Mommy's boy, drinking away the pain of never being good enough for your family." Dak remarks coldly.

That takes Jett back. He stands there, mouth slightly ajar, looking bewildered and hurt. He said that it was more that he liked to be rebellious. But now, after Dak's little mantra, I see a side to Jett that I've never seen so far. And that's him being speechless. Dak smirks, triumphant. He steps in closer, Marcis beaming beside him, bruise clear on his chin.

"Now that stupid here is quiet," Dak grins darkly. "I thought I'd just come and warn Carlos, you know, remind him that messing me would be big trouble."

"Yes, and I clearly need to worry about you, since that's the only thing on my mind," I scoff. "Maybe you should worry about Marcus instead. He doesn't look as big as you, in fact, I think even Stephanie could take him on."

Stephanie grins, wiggling her eyebrows mysteriously. "That's right, Marcus. Don't test me, I'm a thief. I can steal knives and everything."

That puts Marcus off, who stands back slightly towards Dak, like the coward that he really is. Dak's grin just gets bigger, wider and more malicious.

"Very well, Carlos, I guess I'll be going. Just remember for future, yes?" Dak winks. "Anything is possible."

It doesn't take long for Dak to leave, Marcus in tow. I turn back to Camille and Stephanie, who beam happily, whilst James begins a steady bounce in his seat, getting higher and higher. Jett catches my attention, though. He slumps into his seat, looking defeated and shocked. I look back at Camille and Stephanie, nodding my head for them to continue.

"Your theory?" I ask Camille.

"That Dak likes you," Camille states flatly. "That somehow, in his twisted, drug-soaked mind, he likes you. And he sees Logan as a threat and possible, Logan sees him as a threat."

That can't be possible. "So you think Logan likes me back?"

"Exactly," Stephanie nods. "You've now become the prize in a battle for your love. Dak wants you, he's willing to play dirty and that means taking out Logan. Whereas Logan, he's protecting you, trying to warn Dak off by getting him trouble, keeping him away from you."

"But why would putting me in The Box help him take out Logan? Doesn't exactly make my heart go mushy for him."

Camille grimaces. "We think, the whole point of that, was to retaliate. To show Logan that you can't protect him. With you in The Box, Logan is pretty much vulnerable, open, for Dak to strike whenever."

"To push him away from you out of fear. So it makes Dak's job easier." Stephanie adds on.

But it doesn't make sense. None of it makes sense. When did all of this, all of the drama and trouble, come from me having two admirers? Yet, I can safely say, Logan has already captured my heart. He stole it the minute I set my eyes onto his soft, warming figure at the table, reading a book. Then, something catches me like a fish on a hook.

"Kendall. Dak must realise that Kendall would stick by Logan as much as possible? He'd never let Dak touch him."

"That's true," Camille sighs. "But as I said, theory."

The silence creeps up for a second, before finally, James stops bouncing and beams wildly.

"Tell him! Go on, go on, go on, tell him, tell him, tell him the big plan!" James shakes with excitement.

Camille smiles then sits forward just a little bit closer, so she only has to whisper. "We're thinking of breaking out, Carlos. Soon."

* * *

It takes a long time for me to be able to understand everything. Breaking out. Breaking out the place I've been shunned too. But... But everything would be wrong. If I stay my year, I can go home perfectly. Go back to my Mom and Rico. If I break out... What do they even want to happen by breaking out? Where would we go? Why would they even want it? None of it makes sense at all. None of it. Yet, I accepted to their idea.

"So," Stephanie smiles slyly on her bed. For some reason, I had to be taken aside. "You're definitely up for this idea?"

"I said yes, didn't I?"

"Oh but puppy," Stephanie laughs. "It's a different thing saying it under pressure, then saying it just to me. We won't care if you say no, puppy, after all, you have people to go home too."

That catches me by surprise. "Surely I'm not the only one."

Stephanie scoffs, standing to the floor and walking to her window. "Yeah, well... Things are different for us, compared to you, Carlos. My family... Yeah, they don't really care if their kleptomaniac daughter comes home or not. Least they get to keep their valuables safe and sound."

"And everyone else," I frown. "Jett's parents..."

But the minute I mention Jett, I know I regret it. Stephanie notices, turning around and smiling sheepishly.

"Yeah, his parents wouldn't care. Neither would Camille's, really, and James' never bother to even check on him at all. See, none of our parents care, so we have nothing to lose. But of course, you have your little brother and Mom who actually loves you," Stephanie smiles sadly. "So you're lucky. Which is why we're okay if you don't wanna help. Cause if this goes tits up, we're all screwed."

I frown, looking down at my hands. They have everything to gain and nothing to lose by this. They're already locked up, which means if they ever got caught, then come straight back to here. Me, I'm the opposite case. I have nothing to really gain and everything to lose by it.

"What do you plan to do when you leave?" I question her. "I mean, where you gonna go? Run from the cops? I'm sure the witch is going to be pissed as fuck you all escape."

Stephanie smirks. "Yeah, well, we have to plan all of that first. But we have a rough idea for everything. You know what, maybe you shouldn't accept straightaway. Think about it?"

"Already said yes, though," I remind her. "I mean, can't say no now."

"As I said, we'd understand," Stephanie offers her sly smile, as if she knows my answer before I even do. "So think about it. Then, if you want, jump on in. If not, that's fine. But, Carlos, and this is a big but, you can't give anything away. We escape, you have to keep quiet. Say nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," Stephanie grins. "Because I need out of here. I literally feel like an experiment to her twisted ideas."

"I get you," I smile. "But yeah, I'll think about it."

"That's what I like to here, puppy. As I said, we won't hold anything against you at all. Of course, though, the idea would be nice. Us lot, breaking out and enjoying the road as a weird, little family. Since you know, you are a part of it now."

I find myself grinning, corners reaching under my eyes. "So you, James, Camille and Jett, yeah?"

"And possibly you," Stephanie winks. "And maybe not you. But yeah, us lot. For now, anyway."

Then, her smile weakens, completely falting. Her eyebrows knit up, anger and terror dawning across her face as she stares at me. Then, I realise, it's not me. She's looking past me, at her door. I crane my neck, noticing the familiar figure in the doorway, playing with his thumbs and looking down. But when he looks up, I can see the faint smile peering across his face, highlighting his eyes which sparkle.

Logan.

"Shit." Stephanie mumbles under her breath.

"Is that offer for everyone?" Logan asks with a wry smile. "I mean, can anyone jump on that? Because I think I want to go too."

* * *

**Dun dun dun. Yes, this was my plan. The gang, breaking out. Still some more stuff to happen first, as well as everything else.**

**Dak and Marcus... They still have something in them.**

**And well, Logan wants to join. Of course, though, what is his reason for wanting to break out and ignore all consequences? I mean, it obviously has something to do with his history. Oh, don't forget Kendall's. ;)**

**Yeah. Sorry for the delay... Have tons of stuff to do.**


	9. Pyromaniac

**Huge thank you for those who reviewed! I love, love, love you guys! Thank you **_KEALY KAMES_, _ThisHendersonChick14_, _kenlosisreal_, _Cookie Monster Giggles_, _Brittney_, _Mr. President 64_, _ZeldaLove Akira-Chan_, _Jamie_, _nigelbtrlover24_, _LoneWolfie_, _CUTE CARGAN LOVE_, _krehpeh_, _whysoserious94_, _Xbigtimerusherx_, _Gigi_, _Car-the-awesome_, _Miss-Invisible-Heartbreak_, _xxBadDreamxx_, _HomeSkillitBiscuit.93_ **and the lovely,** _Aeroja_.

Alerts and favourites were loved! Thank you guys. :)

Sorry for the delay, but here it is. You'll like this chapter. Something you've been waiting for happens... Depends on what you've been waiting for, that is. ;)

* * *

**Imprisoned**

**Chapter Nine; Pyromaniac.**

* * *

It took all about a few seconds to finally grasp around the idea that Logan, Logan of all people, was wanting to break out alongside teenagers I've never really seen him talk to that much. He eyes the floor, looking up to give a glance at Stephanie, before going back again.

"You want to what?" Stephanie asks, a little shocked.

"To come with you," Logan repeats, trying to muster up confidence in his voice. I smile, because well, he's cute when he's trying to be something he's not. "To get out of this place. Now. Like, now, now."

"We aren't going yet," Stephanie points out, walking across the room. "And no offence, Logan, but you don't exactly talk with the rest of us. We plan on staying together, not splitting up."

"I'll stay with you guys. I have nowhere else to go." Logan forces a smile.

I get up, placing a hand on Stephanie's shoulder. "Maybe he should come."

Stephanie's smile turns a little dark, a little smug and a little... Well, a little Stephanie. "You said come, little puppy. Come as in you agree to joining us. Not go, but come. Does that mean what I think it means?"

A smile forms on my face when I look at Logan, noticing the awkward blush creeping over his porcelain face. Then, I find Stephanie's smile, still plastered, still full of Stephanie's usual, hidden questions and ideas. And without realising, my head begins to nod, signalling my choice. Yeah. Maybe leaving won't be so bad. With Logan, that would be great. Me, Logan, open road, police hunting us down. It'll be like a movie, in a twisted sense. Then hopefully, eventually, I can return to Mom and Rico. They are safe at the moment. They don't need me, I mean, I still have to finish my time here.

Maybe they are better off without me.

"So is that a yes?" Stephanie beams.

"Yeah," I smile. "It is a yes. If we take Logan as well."

"Oh I see," Stephanie winks. "Then fine. Sure. Logan can come with us as well. But one small, minor, little problem."

"What's that?"

"Not a that, but a him. Blonde, eyebrows," Stephanie raises her eyebrow, before scrunching her face up. "Oh yeah, and fire. Lots and lots of fire."

When I look at Logan in response to knowing it's about Kendall, I can see his face pale considerably, a smile turning into a frown. I guess he didn't really think about Kendall, how protective he is and well, his thoughts on Logan doing a disappearing act with nearly half of the facility inmates. That doesn't sound exactly great. He looks up, giving a smile that seems forced, but I guess that's the best he could do.

"I'll talk to him."

"Wait, what?" Stephanie complains. "You actually are going to talk to Kendall about us breaking out? Have you got a screw loose or somet- Wait. No, don't answer that."

"He wouldn't say anything anyway," Logan defends the blonde pyromaniac. "If anything, I guess, Kendall would want to come with us."

I find myself just a little bit shocked, playing my hands together mindlessly in front of me. Kendall has never liked me. Not really. Not for showing interest in his little pet project. Stephanie crosses her arms, not looking pleased.

"Can he actually help though?" Stephanie questions. "I mean, what does Kendall bring to the table, exactly? In fact, what do you bring to the table?"

"Kendall... He knows people," Logan makes a frown. "And me. Well, I can't bring nothing."

"You're smart," I find myself saying. "I mean, you read all those books, right? So you should be smart."

Logan makes a little chuckle, before coughing. "Reading books doesn't necessarily make you smart."

"Well I already said you can come, so no need to beg around our little puppy," Stephanie smirks. "Though if Kendall says no and we find out we can't go through with it because your psycho bodyguard isn't cool with it, then he can deal with me. And trust me, I can be more dangerous than a little firestarter."

Logan nods curtly, before disappearing from the room, and suddenly, I can feel the difference in my mood when he's around. I can already tell how much I need him, how much I like him. And I'd be lying if I said that it didn't scare me.

Because it does. It scares the fuck out of me.

But for love, you take risks, right?

* * *

"No."

Camille glares, leaning forward. "Jett, you have to do it."

"I don't have to do anything," Jett points out. "You are simply suggesting, which of course is madness! I won't do it!"

Stephanie moves closer, narrowing her eyes, but keeping the softness clear. I lightly laugh as it seems more and more obvious that they are cornering Jett, trapping him, until he says the fateful words of agreement. From the corner of my eye, I can see James bouncing on the seat, grinning, looking wild.

And somehow, that takes me to yesterday, knowing James' excitement to the idea of escaping.

"For the last time, I'm not doing it. I refuse to stand there and persuade Kendall to come with us if Logan can't do it," Jett stands up abruptly, shaking his head. "No, I don't see why I should have to do it."

"You know why," Stephanie winks. "He likes you and he'll do anything to be with you."

"He would not."

"He would so and you know it and you like him and that's why you're not doing it. You can't be around each other without arguing, because really, that's how you're substituting your sexual tension." Stephanie smirks.

"My what?" Jett raises his eyebrow, but it's hard to ignore the blush clawing at his cheeks.

"Sexual tension," Camille rolls her eyes. "You know what it means. You guys just wanna rip each other's clothes off and fuck."

Jett stammers for a while, opening and closing his mouth like a fish gasping for air, before he clamps his jaw shut, blinking a few times, all the while, the blush never leaving. In the end, Jett nods, silently walking out the room, no doubt embarrassed. I look at Camille, who smiles.

"Yeah, we all know Jett wants Kendall, though we don't know what has possessed him to want that," Stephanie inserts, sitting down next to Camille. "But it's true. If Logan isn't going to twist him around, then Jett will."

"I might go with him..." I suddenly say out loud, voice running away from me. "You know, to make sure Jett has back-up. Plus, I kinda want to see Jett coin Kendall around, if I'm honest."

"Yeah, that's the reason," Stephanie winks, which by now, I'm getting used to. "Go on, go."

I climb up, flashing a smile before I quickly disappear, determined to find Jett before he gets to Kendall. It's true, I do want to see Jett try to pull Kendall around. And maybe a part of me wants to see Logan. Because at the end of the day, if I have to break out and throw what's left of my life away, then it'll be worth it if Logan is there. If I'm with Logan. I spin around a corner, noticing Jett standing patiently at Kendall's door, hand poised to knock on his door.

He notices me, smiles awkwardly, before banging.

Quickly, it opens, revealing Kendall, looking none too pleased. I move closer, standing next to Jett.

"Oh great, not one but two idiots," Kendall sighs. "Look, I don't want your 'buy one get one free' offer."

"You're so funny," Jett laughs mockingly. "No. I want to talk to you about something important. I don't want too, but I've been told I have too."

"Wonderful."

"Move out the way then." Jett says, barging past Kendall and into his room.

I stand back, waiting for Kendall to give me permission. He eyes me with fiery orbs, before giving a curt nod, allowing me in. And instantly, I'm swamped by more familar white. Just like every other room, which I'm not surprised. I'm pretty sure Dr. Philips is a sadist. Jett plops down on the bed, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, not finding myself comfortable with anything.

"Well, speak then." Kendall flips his hand out.

"I take it Logan hasn't mentioned anything?"

Kendall narrows his eyes a little. "Oh, you want to talk about that... Right. Yeah, Logan mentioned something 'that' thing. Though I can't believe you twisted him around to it. Which I'm not happy about, by the way.

I raise my hands in self-defense. "I said nothing. Logan approached us on the idea."

"Sure thing," Kendall glares. "You're not telling me that he didn't fall for your charms? That he wants to leave on his own terms, not because he knows you will?"

"I don't know. He just said he wanted out. That he needs to get out."

Kendall sighs angrily, rubbing a hand through his hair. "You are such an idiot, Carlos. Logan isn't the type of person to just want to be out of here. I don't know if you know, or if it isn't painstakingly obvious, but Logan is pretty screwed up. He needs security, and sadly, it's right here that he's going to get it. Not skipping around the country, running from cops. You two aren't Bonnie and Clyde."

"Surprise you actually know them," Jett smirks, standing up. "Didn't think you had it in you. You know, you could take the offer. You could come out with us."

"And why would I want to do that?" Kendall crosses his arms. "Give me one good reason why I should."

Instantly, I can tell Jett's face has softened. The smirk disappears, vanished, replaced by a sad, confused smile, like Jett doesn't know whether to frown or grin. His eyebrows knit together. Then, I get it. Jett does like Kendall.

"I thought," Jett takes a deep breath. "Me. Maybe you should come because of me."

And like Jett, Kendall's face softens, revealing a side to him I've never seen. I fight the smirk, readying on my face. Jett extinguished the fire that is Kendall. A vulnerable, exposed teenager, possibly clawing at the love Jett's leaving on the plate. I feel like a third wheel. Like I'm intruding on an intimate moment. I stand back a little, letting them have some privacy.

"And why did you think that?" Kendall asks, almost, almost timidly.

"You know why Kendall," Jett murmurs. "You know why I want you to come. You know why your heart is telling you to come. So stop fighting. Stop keeping people out. Push down those, those fiery walls you have, and let someone in."

Kendall freezes, looking almost... Almost scared. He walks past Jett, sitting down on his bed.

"You're right," Kendall mumbles. "Absolutely right. Do you want to know why I'm like this? Why I am the way I am?"

Jett sits down next to him, placing his hand on Kendall's shoulder. "You don't have too."

"I killed someone..." Kendall replies numbly. "I let it get the better of me. My Dad. He err... He wasn't a nice man. Used to hit my Mom all the time. And one day, I caught him placing a match to her arm. I was, what, about 5? Watching your mother cry, fighting back screams, as your father places a burning match to her skin, hissing in her ear. That started the obsession. He left, thank god. But it didn't stop me. I became engrossed by the fire, the destructive power that a flame could do."

Pity takes over my body as Kendall, the pyromatic, produces tears and the fire in his eyes die.

"And I burned this building down. I thought it was abandoned. I didn't even know that a homeless man was inside. Sleeping there, because he had nowhere else to go," Kendall takes a deep, shaky breath, before letting it go. "And he died. I killed him. They found me, I came in here and the rest is history. But it consumed me for ages. I don't let people in easily."

"You let Logan in."

Then it's my turn to freeze. I stand still for ages, watching Jett and Kendall eye me curiously, feeling like an animal caught in headlights.

"That's because we understand each other, like a connection," Kendall smiles sarcastically. "But fine. Sure. I'll come with you. Somebody needs to look out for Logan that isn't wanting to get into his pants."

* * *

The door stands in front of me, ready to be knocked. Yet, my hand waits readily, and for some reason, I can't pull myself around. Behind the slab of wood lies the boy I plan on breaking out for. I plan to leave my life, well, what's left of it anyway, for him. To never be allowed to go back to normality... For Logan. And for a moment, maybe I'm being stupid. Giving everything up for something that could be real or could be my imagination.

A figment created within these walls.

Either that or I'm reading into things too much. Kendall said I wanted into Logan pants. That's true. But that's not everything, surely?

The door swings open, revealing Logan, and in my moment of madness, I realise I must have knocked on the door finally.

"Hi," Logan blushes. "I heard about Kendall."

I stand still for a moment. And instantly, seeing the red on Logan's cheeks, I light up. "Yeah. Well, Jett has a way with words."

"Done better than I did," Logan steps aside, letting me in again at the room so familiar. "I said it, but he wasn't happy about me going."

"Think that's because of me, you know," I sit down, suddenly feeling so... So out of place. "Said that I was dragging you away from your security."

Logan freezes for a moment, before moving forward, eyes full of hurt. I can tell. My heart can tell.

"Said that... Said that this place is like your comfort blanket, basically, and that I was dragging you away, ripping it from you."

"But it was my choice..." Logan mumbles.

"Maybe he's right," I suddenly say, fighting back the pain stabbing at my mind to reject the idea. "Maybe you're better off here. Maybe you do need this place to help you, Logan. I have no idea why you are why you are, I don't know why you're in here, but all I know is that I suddenly feel really guilty. Like I am stripping a child away from their mother."

The quiet falls into place, me sat here, looking at my lap, whilst Logan sits next to me, staring at the floor numbly.

"I'm not."

I look up, Logan still staring at the floor. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not better off here," Logan laughs slightly bitterly. "You know, before you came along, I never spoke to anyone. You brought me out of my shell, Carlos. You're my security."

Tears begin to pepper in his eyes, a silent tear sliding down his face.

"You're my comfort blanket and I need you," Logan's voice begins to break, cracking. "I need you more than you know. More than I've ever needed someone. And I-I d-don't know how to explain it, but you m-make me feel like a human again, not some c-criminal."

I slide forward a bit, getting closer, laying my hand gently on Logan's knee. He laughs again, cracked and breathy, before he places his hand on top of mine. His head tilts up slightly, doe-like eyes beaming through the tears.

"You aren't a criminal."

"You don't know what I did," Logan laughs bitterly again, but compared to his eyes, the contrast is massive. "Why I ended up here."

"No, that's true. But it doesn't change you, Logan. I'm here for reasons, and well, I'm still the same kid as I was before I committed a crime."

Logan smiles sadly. "So I need to go. I need to get out of here."

"Well Kendall agreed, so it's okay," I smile. "Everything will be fine. We'll all leave together and be some awesome, dysfunctional family on the run."

"I like the sound of that," Logan laughs sweetly. "I like it a lot."

"Good, because it's all settled then. You, me, Kendall, James, Camille, Stephanie and Jett, running away."

His smile increases slightly, and it's then, I realise that I could easily wake up to seeing that everyday. That same, bright smile would be lovely. Going back home... It would mean the frown on Mom's face every time she looks at me. She won't mean it, but I'll always see it. That same, ashamed glint in her eye that tells me she'll never forgive me. I had my reasons. She knew that. It was for her, after all, but she'd never forgive me for taking it too far.

And Rico... Going up with his older brother, an ex-criminal, spending time in a correctional facility. Not exactly great role model status.

But with Logan, with the others... It'd be a lot better. They wouldn't judge, stare at me like I've done something wrong; we've all done something wrong. I'd be in the same boat as the others and to me, that's a better situation, I guess.

"You thinking about something?"

I snap out of my daze, noticing Logan looking curiously. I shake my head, laughing. "Just realising how easier things would be if I didn't go home. Stephanie and that... They said they have no real reason to return. That they aren't going to miss out and I was. And now, I've realised that I'm not going to miss out on anything."

"And neither am I," Logan offers an awkward smile. "Now, we're all free."

"I guess so."

A silence falls into place, but it's not awkward. It's comforting, like we're enjoying each others presence. Logan looks down, looks up and blushes... And something takes over me. My thumb finds itself underneath his chin, lifting his head up. He looks at me, those beautiful, beautiful brown eyes sparkling, and then his eyebrows knit. He's confused. I laugh lightly, pulling him closer, until I feel his breath, hitched and shaky from the nerves no doubt, tracing my skin.

After all, this isn't a kiss in a game of spin the bottle. This is real. This is our first, proper kiss.

Our lips meet, and like before, the sensation of watermelon takes over. I smile into the kiss, whilst Logan holds his own, composed, confused state. I pull away, smile and soon Logan offers a tiny, shocked smile.

"And that was for?" Logan asks.

"For being my comfort blanket," I smile. "For being you."

* * *

**Ta-da! I hope the wait was worth it. Probably not. I'm sorry.**

**So, Kendall's past has been opened up and explored. You now know why he is the way he is. And I've opened up Carlos' a little, as well as the starting point for the ever-troubled, Logan. This should be fun!**

**For chapter-wise... I'm not sure how many more. I'm still thinking over 5... Possibly another 7 to 8. Then the story is finished!  
**

**Like Kames? Check out my story, _You Found Me_. I'll love you forever?**


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